


side by side

by mintycarrots



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Boys Being Boys, Bucket List, Developing Relationship, High School, M/M, New Friends, Summer Vacation, Training Camp, Travelling Around Tokyo, Volleyball
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:00:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 50,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28185765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mintycarrots/pseuds/mintycarrots
Summary: Just when he thought he was safe, two aisles over, Miya jumped behind him and tapped on his shoulder.“Hey, ‘Kaashi-kun, d’you wanna be friends?”.After appearing in the wrong place at the wrong time, Keiji encounters Inarizaki's Miya Atsumu, who steals his summer.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji & Miya Atsumu, Akaashi Keiji/Miya Atsumu
Comments: 11
Kudos: 98





	1. Friend

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Summer Bucket List](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16085855) by [Beewachan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beewachan/pseuds/Beewachan). 



“HEY HEY HEY! AKAASHI!” Bokuto yelled with no regard for Keiji’s hearing, “School just ended, right?! You need to take advantage of your youth! Get outside!” 

He pressed his pass against the scanner and it rejected him.

“Bokuto-san, what are you talking about?” Keiji frowned, swiping his card over the pad again. It beeped and Keiji boarded the bus, scanning over the available seats. Everybody was excited for summer to begin- there were none. 

“Onaga is the best first year! I mean second year! He told me that you have no friends and just spend all your time in the gym, which is totally understandable, Aghaashi, but you need to rest as well! Friends, friends too!” 

Keiji felt slightly offended. 

“I have friends. The other third years. Plus, we have the first two weeks off from practice,” he frowned. The bus stopped and he was jostled around as passengers stepped off. He offered a man on the way back from grocery shopping an open seat and the man smiled appreciatively. 

“I mean outside of the club. I have Kuroo, you know? And Tsukki!” 

Keiji didn’t have the heart to tell Bokuto that Tsukishima wasn’t his friend.

“I have Kozume.”

“That’s still a volleyball friend!” 

His eyebrows furrowed at that logic, “Wh- Kuroo and Tsukishima are volleyball friends?!” 

“Okay! That’s not the point here! I’m calling to tell you that I ran into your mom the other day! I was in Tokyo to visit my sister, sorry I wasn’t able to drop by but I was only here for lunch and you had school- getting off topic!” Bokuto huffed at himself and Keiji rolled his eyes, a fond feeling fluttering in his chest. “So the point is I ran into your mom, right? And she _also_ thinks you should have some friends!” 

Keiji sighed and got off the bus, “I’ll call you back later, Bokuto-san. I will try my best to make friends.”

“That’s great because I’m blocking your number until the end of summer, I’ll tell Kenma to do it too! Bye!” 

“ _Excuse me?_ Boku-” 

Beep beep. The call ended and Keiji was left bewildered, staring at the disconnected call. Blocked? His mother? What?

Keiji hopped up the last few steps and dug through his bag for his keys, unlocking the door and pushing it open. 

“Kaa-san?” he called, toeing off his shoes. His mother’s head peeked out of the kitchen. 

“Yes, Keiji?” 

“Bokuto-san said that he ran into you the other day? He also said he would be blocking me…” 

His mother grinned, “Oh, right! We both agreed you need more friends, and Koutarou-kun thought it would be best if you got out more often.” 

That cleared up nothing. Were they plotting together against him?? 

“A-and the way to do that is to cut off communication with me?” Keiji spluttered. His mother laughed and retreated back into the kitchen.

“There are a lot of kids in our block, Uenoyama-san’s son just started his second year. Kagami-kun lives by himself and he’s in your year. Very nice boy, though a bit awkward… I’m sure you’d get along great!” 

“That’s… great, kaa-san. I’m going to change,” Keiji excused himself and closed the door to his room. He collapsed onto his bed and screamed into a pillow.

_Why, Bokuto-san? W h y ?_

This was swell. Keiji fished his blazer out of his bag and tossed it into the hamper. He undid his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. They were exchanged for a shirt Bokuto gifted him, imprinted with ‘the Way of the Setter’ so that “Now we match, Aghaaaashi!!!”. (It was about 2 sizes too big.)

He tugged on track pants and Keiji spotted a piece of paper that was resting on the floor of his closet. It was a folded up advertisement for a discount on knee pads. Keiji had procrastinated on getting any since his first year, but since all of their primary receivers had graduated, the setter found himself either as the target or covering receives most often.

Well, now was as good a time as any.

“Kaa-san, I need to buy kneepads for the upcoming season, I’ll be back before 5,” Keiji informed her, and she called back an affirmation. 

He leapt down the stairs two at a time and glared at the glaring sun. Tokyo in summer sucked, to put it shortly. Not only was the heat just shy of unbearable, but Tokyo was huge, in the way that there were millions of people everywhere. Walking shoulder to shoulder with hot and sweaty people. 

Keiji was a winter baby through and through.

The sportswear store was just two blocks down, but wading through the mob of elated fresh-out-of-school highschool students was really not fun.

Inside the shop provided Keiji sanctuary from the hot summer sun, as well as an overwhelming smell of leather and rubber. He glanced back at the coupon. Along with the 15% discount on knee pads, there was also another that detailed buying 3500 yen worth of stuff to save 500. 

Well, his ball was getting pretty scuffed up. A good volleyball would be around 3000 just by themselves.

His hand ghosted over several packages. Keiji smiled at a pack of long knee pads that Bokuto always wore. The smile quickly dropped when he remembered what Bokuto had done. Keiji had tried texting, emailing, and calling his former captain, but all yielded no results. 

Keiji picked a pack off the rack and turned away. He jumped when a shock of blond hair greeted him. A familiar blond head.

“O-oh!” his voice cracked in surprise. He cleared his throat and tried again, “Miya-san. Can I help you?”

The boy scrutinizing him narrowed his eyes. They shot open and he snapped, pointing at Keiji.

“That’s who you are! Bokuto’s setter, right? Akashi?” Miya Atsumu exclaimed.

“It’s Akaashi,” Keiji corrected, “Bokuto-san isn’t on the team anymore, either. Why’re you in Tokyo, Miya-san?”

The other immediately scowled and his shoulders hunched over. Miya kicked the floor and his face twisted into something ugly. Keiji zeroed in on the dark blue sports wrap around his right thigh. 

“Stayin’ with my aunt for the summer,” he muttered, eyes still on the ground. His tone was bitter, resentful, maybe? Keiji nodded. An injury, definitely, but that was no reason for him to be so far from Hyogo.

“Alright. Do you mind if I…” Keiji pointed to the side and slowly shuffled out of the conversation. 

Just when he thought he was safe, two aisles over, Miya jumped behind him and tapped on his shoulder.

“Hey, ‘Kaashi-kun, d’you wanna be friends?”

What.

“Um… friends?”

“Yeah. Yer school just let out, yeah? We can hang out together, you can show me some places in Tokyo, c’mon, it’ll be sick,” Miya leaned forward expectantly and Keiji leaned backwards at the same pace.

So… how do you put it in a polite way?

“Er, what brought this on? I’m sorry, Miya-san but we’ve only met once or twice…”

“Well I’ve got a list, and it’s real boring ‘n lonely to do everything on it, and most of the stuff requires two people anyways. S’not like you’ve get anything better to do! Consider it a temporary friendship, you can forget all ‘bout it when summer’s over.”

_So the point is I ran into your mom, right? And she also thinks you should have some friends!_

Keiji considered it for a second. A, he says no and Miya leaves him alone. B, he says no and Miya pouts and whines until he acquiesces. C, he says yes and Miya is happy. D, he says yes and end up regretting it because it’s _Miya Atsumu,_ the talk of the entire high school volleyball circuit.

He would hate D, but B would be annoying.

“So how many things are on the list?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is like my 3rd fic in a row written from Akaashi’s POV. Why am I writing this during winter break? I felt like it. Just for fun. And I suppose as a Christmas gift to myself.


	2. Begin!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Keiji (foolishly) agreed to aid Miya with his list, they start venturing through Tokyo.

Miya immediately perked up and his grin widened tenfold. The right side, well Keiji’s right, lifting up higher than the left.

“That means you’ll do it? Awesome! There’s 43 of ‘em, but I already did 2 but it was boring by m’self. There’s like 41 days left in summer vaca, yeah? We can do one a day!”

Keiji was already having second thoughts about this. Miya slung an arm around his shoulders and Keiji clutched the kneepads to his chest protectively.

Great, of course he was shorter than him. 

“Miya-san-”

“We’re friends now, ‘Kaashi-kun, call me Atsumu. Miya sounds like my stupid brother.” 

“Er, Atsumu-san, I have practice. And a training camp. I’m sure you do too… aren’t you the captain this year?”

His expression soured, “Gin ‘n Sunarin can handle the team for a summer. We’ll deal with it when it comes! You’re not at practice now, are you?” 

“Well, no, I have a few weeks off-” 

“Perfect! Was there anythin’ else you needed?” 

Keiji gave up on trying to dissuade him. He led Miya down the aisle, focusing instead on the fact that the blond was limping, hardly noticeable, and Keiji became more of a crutch to him. He ducked out from under Miya’s arm and leaned down to pick a ball from the bin.

He bounced it a couple times and tossed it towards Miya. They set the ball back and forth a few times. Keiji returned the ball and dug out another one, repeating the process.

“Hey, aren’t these smaller than regulation?” Miya commented, taking a step back to toss the ball Keiji had set too far. 

“Sorry. Yes, they are. It’s just to keep around my room, and I use smaller balls to work on control,” Keiji caught it and spun it in his hands, “I’m getting this one.”

“That’s cool. Hey, is there a park anywhere?” 

Were they getting started on the list? Or maybe Miya wanted to rest his leg. 

Keiji walked up to the register and put the piece of paper, setting the knee pads, volleyball, and a small pack of pump needles on the counter. At the edge of his vision Miya was entertaining himself by juggling three tiny soccer balls. 

“Miya- Atsumu-san,” Keiji called, his purchases bagged up, “There’s a park right around the corner.”

“Awesome, actually give me a sec, I need to buy something,” he walked up to the counter and placed something down. When the receipt was handed over he stuffed the thing into his pocket immediately, turning and grinning at Keiji. “Where to, friend?” 

Keiji grimaced and pushed open the door, holding it for Miya. The park really was right around the corner, but it was filled with people wandering around. 

“Is this something on your list?” 

1.

“Yeah! I wanted to have a photoshoot, hand me that ball, will ya?” 

Keiji paused. A photoshoot. Yes, that. Was this what people put on their bucket lists? Perhaps. He wouldn’t know, he never made any.

He threw the ball at him and placed the rest of his stuff on a nearby bench. 

“What did you have in mind?” 

“Yaknow those like- what’re they called? Spur of the moment photos?” 

“Candid photos?” 

Miya clapped, “Yeah! I want to take one of those.”

“Doesn’t it defeat the whole purpose if you’re posing for them?” 

Miya waved him off and grinned, “Okay so then it’s staged candid photos!” 

It astounded Keiji how easily Miya could adapt back and forth. Then again, he _did_ hang out with Bokuto.

Miya instructed him to sit down on the bench and he walked a few meters away. Keiji squinted, of course he had to choose the one place the sun peeked through. 

“Ey, catch!” he called, before chucking his phone at Keiji. 

“DON’T DO THAT!” Keiji lunged forward to catch it before it hit the ground. Miya cackled, cracking up at the sight of Keiji, an inch from the ground. 

“It’s perfectly fine, see, ‘Kaashi-kun? You caught it!”

He glared at the blond, who positioned himself so he was facing the sun and his back was turned to Keiji.

“Can you get like an upward angle? So it’s like, what’s it called, my silhouette? And take it when I’m tossin’ up the ball!”

Keiji rolled his eyes. Not very ‘candid’, now was it? At least Miya didn’t use a flip phone, that would’ve been hell to try and capture a photo with. 

From the back, the sun illuminated the edges of Miya’s piss blond hair, making it glow golden, a ring around his head. He began tossing the ball up and down, perfect form, following the same path each and every time. 

Keiji decided to just use the camera trick, take a million photos as he moved so that he could sort through them later. 

He tapped on the more photos icon and soon the camera roll popped up, 7 new photos sitting at the bottom. Blurry, blurry, Miya probably didn’t want a photo of him just holding a ball, blurry, all right, good, good. Keiji quickly deleted out the blurry photos and examined the last three. 

“Let me see,” he squatted down next to Keiji and made grabby hands. Keiji took a last glance at the time and handed it back. 4:13. He should probably start heading back. “Holy shit, these look awesome, ‘Kaashi-kun!” 

A smile slipped onto his face at the praise, “Do they?” he couldn’t help but ask. 

“Yeah! I hafta post one- you don’t mind, right? I’ll tag ya and ev’rything,” he looked up eagerly and Keiji nodded, “Awesome! Man- ‘Samu’s going to be-” 

He suddenly cut himself off and his grin fell. Keiji noted this sudden change in behavior and his eyebrows furrowed. A fight, between himself and his brother. Did his leg have anything to do with it? That somehow ended with him in Tokyo. 

Miya glared at the ground for a few moments before straightening, tapping at his phone for a few moments. 

“‘Kaashi-kun, do you have Instagram? What’s your @?” 

“Just search up my name, my profile picture is an owl.” 

What else would it be? Not only did Bokuto practically force Keiji to create an account, he also set up everything. Which meant he had one post, a photo of Bokuto’s face with Keiji next to him, Konoha squished between as he tried to escape Bokuto’s hold. The bio was probably something indecipherable, seeing as his former captain was the worst typer you could possibly meet.

“Quick question, ‘Kaashi-kun: what’s your name?” 

Keiji blinked. Oh right, there wasn’t any reason for Miya to know what his name was. He felt the slightest bit offended that his name wasn’t at least somewhat known, Fukurodani was still a powerhouse, after all. 

“Keiji. Akaashi Keiji.” 

“Nice, an’ you already know who I am,” Miya grinned. So cocky, all the time. “‘M done!” 

Did it even count as a photo shoot if they only took one photo?

His phone buzzed with a notification and Keiji pulled it out. True to his word, Miya had tagged Keiji in his newest post. Well, maybe he would be able to see said newest post if Keiji actually followed him. 

Miya made a scandalized noise beside him. 

“You don’t follow me?! What kinda setter are ya if ya don’t follow the #1??”

He rolled his eyes. Cocky. 

“I already follow Kageyama,” Keiji said with a straight face. He continued to tap away at his phone, catching up on Ennoshita’s new team, Hinata’s sister’s art, and how Kenma’s Xbox broke down. PlayStation was better anyways.

“Yer so mean, ‘Kaashi-kun, that’s no way to treat yer new best friend.”

He side-eyed Miya.

“Who said you were my best friend?”

* * *

Keiji stared at his phone, the blue line guiding him to his destination leading to seemingly nowhere.

Add the fact that he was only half awake, Keiji was standing in the middle of an alleyway, a dumpster as his only companion.

A voice called “Ey! ‘Kaashi-kun, you aren’t tryna ditch me, are ya?” Miya panted as he put a hand on his shoulder, “You walk really quickly, anybody ever tell you that? The address I sent was like an entire block down, how the fuck didja miss me?”

He frowned at his phone and cancelled the directions, turning it off and sliding it away.

“Sorry, M-Atsumu-san. What was so urgent that you needed to call me first thing in the morning?”

2.

“I want to go up Tokyo Tower! All those forum things told me I should go in the mornings!”

He squinted, “Those forums also should’ve said to go on a weekday, and probably not during summer vacation.”

Miya rolled his eyes, “Whatever. But ya said you’d be my tour guide so now you gotta come with me!”

“I didn’t bring any money,” Keiji protested as Miya clamped a hand around his elbow and began pulling. Tokyo Tower? Really? Then again, Miya _did_ live in Hyogo, so he probably didn’t visit the tower every year.

“I have my wallet, now hurry up.”

“It probably isn’t even open.”

“Lucky for you, I already checked! Opens at 9 on Saturdays.”

He groaned internally and closed his eyes, allowing himself to be dragged through the streets.

Keiji stood behind Miya as he waited in line and looked around, only half processing the area. A dozen or so people milled about, almost all of them foreigners.

“We’re going all the way up, ‘Kaashi-kun, it’ll be awesome,” Miya led him deeper into the building.

All the way? Top deck? Okay. 

He blinked as they passed a pair of silver doors sliding shut.

“Atsumu-san we passed the elevator.”

“Yup. We’re taking the stairs.”

Keiji pulled both of them to a stop, “We’re _what?_ ”

The fuck did he just say.

Miya’s smile became razor sharp and he pointed away from the amazing elevator, “Stairs.”

Keiji paused before speaking, forming words in a delicate sentence, “Miya-san it is 9 in the morning, I woke up like 15 minutes ago, and you’re tellling me we’re about to walk up 600 fucking stairs?”

He looked absolutely delighted, “Oh you can swear!”

Keiji glared at him.

“Why, don’t think you can handle it? I mean, I guess there’s a reason Fukurodani hasn’t ever made it to finals, I mean, now with you at the head-“

This. Asshole. 

Keiji shoved past Miya and stomped up the stupid stairs. The blond quickly hopped up two at a time and matched Keiji’s furious pace. A shit eating grin adorned his face as he watched Keiji slowly gain speed, flat out sprinting up the fucking steps, challenging Miya with every step.

2, 1, 2, 1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 1, 1, 2, 1, 1.

Miya leapt up the last three, nearly toppling over in his haste to spin around and gloat at Keiji.

He didn’t get a chance too, Keiji slipped on the last step and ate shit.

His forehead banged against the tiles and he slid backwards, tumbling down a couple of the stairs. A hand lunged around and grabbed his bicep and he gasped. 

The world spun around Keiji, and he felt disoriented for a second. He soon became aware of the hand around his bicep trembling and he turned to the right.

“Oh my fucking- HAH that fall was amazing, holy shit I wish I could’ve gotten that on camera!” Miya cackled, shaking with both laughter and Keiji’s weight. He scowled. “The way you ate shit on that last step- oh fuck that was _gold._ Then you just- rolled down and HAH!”

“I hate you,” Keiji grumbled, standing up shakily and dusting off his clothes. “I’m terminating this friendship. I’m leaving.”

“How?” Miya grinned, “How you gonna get down? Fall down the stairs again?”

It seemed like everything coming out of Miya’s mouth was comedy good at this point, as that set off another bout of wheezing.

Keiji scowled and stalked off, heading out towards the open balcony. 

Tokyo was always breathtaking from above, high buildings, bright signs, people and cars working their way through the city like clockwork.

The sun wasn’t at its strongest yet, a pleasant warmth, and a slight breeze wafted across the deck. Keiji leaned on the railing and glanced down. 

A figure joined his side and he turned his head. Miya’s eyes were alight, any signs of amusement were gone as he stared at the view. The wind was favoring his hair, blowing the piss blond strands to the right along with the rest of his bangs. 

“That’s gorgeous,” he said, eyes still fixed on the view, “Is this what y’all wake up to everyday?”

“No, but my family visits often. The novelty never wears off,” Keiji replied softly. 

It really was gorgeous. 

Though he’d never admit it, Keiji was actually pretty glad Miya dragged him up here, despite the bruise blooming on his forehead

.

[awful art of scene 1](https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-QJW9iNJP8zY/X-AVAh6dA7I/AAAAAAAAHho/enQUpD_etb4rD-lMChAmYcB6EuUGPFkWQCK8BGAsYHg/s0/2020-12-20.jpg)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was hit with a spurt of inspiration when writing the photography scene and made an awful sketch of it.
> 
> I swear that’s not how my art normally looks. 
> 
> Idk if people actually use smaller balls in vb for control but that’s what we did in soccer so...
> 
> Watched Howl’ Moving Castle today and holy fuck does an oisuga hmc au exist yet?? If not there needs to be! And I will happily write it!
> 
> Anyways hope you enjoyed, like it or hated it, let me know, thanks :)


	3. Boring/Interesting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keiji befriends some cats and sits in a tree with Miya.

When Miya had said “we can do one a day,” Keiji didn’t think he actually meant it. But here he was, on day 3, sitting with Miya in a-

3.

“Cat cafe!” the blond grinned, swiping through his phone to show Keiji the website. “There are tons ‘round Tokyo, right?” 

“I was half expecting you to say ‘maid cafe,’” he commented mildly. The cafe wouldn’t be too far, but they would need to take a bus. 

“Who d’ya take me for, Keiji-kun?” Miya drawled, plucking the phone out of his hands. Keiji jumped and stared at him. 

“ _Keiji-kun?_ ” he said incredulously. Miya shot him a lazy grin but his eyes were sharp. 

“Yeah, ya like it? If ya ask me it sounds better than ‘Kaashi-kun.’ If you don’t like it then maybe we’ll go with Kei-kun?” 

He wrinkled his nose, “Keiji is fine, thanks. I’d prefer Akaashi.” 

The blond rolled his eyes, “So _boring,_ Keiji-kun.” 

They began walking to the nearest bus stop. 

“Nobody calls me ‘Keiji’ except for my parents.” 

“No one? Ya don’t got any siblings?” 

He shook his head in response. Miya looked surprised for a moment before his expression turned foul.

“Yer lucky. Yaknow my brother, right? Well, who _doesn’t_ know us, but he is the absolute worst. Definition of pain in the ass. Thinks he’s hot shit, well guess what: he _ain’t_ shit,” Miya scoffed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Definitely some bitter feelings there, though perhaps that’s just how they always are. Jealousy, maybe?

Miya was certainly open with his opinions, wore his heart on his sleeve and everything. Though sometimes, a filter would do him good.

“Do you have a bus pass?” Keiji asked while slipping out his own. 

“Nope. Do I need one?” 

“No, but if we continue this for the rest of summer I think it would be best to invest in one.” 

Miya turned and stared at him for a moment. Keiji shuffled around uncomfortably. Was there something on his face? 

“You talk like some 40 year old businessman.” 

He narrowed his eyes, “I do not.” 

Miya grinned and pitched up his voice, “‘ _Keiji is fine, thanks.’ ‘I think it would be best to invest in one!’”_

“Shut up,” he grumbled. Bus 703 rolled to a stop, but they need to get on 518. Miya provided enough chatter for the both of them, both on and off the bus. He could talk about anything and everything, about how his former captain was going to be a rice farmer and how his mom had finally started bugging him about getting a girlfriend. 

The cafe was noticeable, a large window at the front displaying various cats lounging around on beds and towers, coming and going as they pleased.

There was a bell placed above the door, tinkling merrily as the two entered. The shop was a lot cooler than outside, that was for sure.

They approached the counter and Keiji allowed Miya to order first.

“Iced coffee and a blueberry muffin, please,” Miya grinned. The small gesture had an effect on the server, as she immediately averted her eyes and led them into the shop.

Ah. Miya was attractive- that was why. Though, the piss blonde left much to be desired. 

Then again, perhaps it was just the dyed hair that Keiji found appealing, that seemed to be the trend.

“An iced tea, thank you,” he smiled softly at the girl and followed Miya to a table for two after paying. The cafe was spacious for cats to wander around. The tables and chairs were set apart from the main area, a large space with toys littering the ground. 

Something bumped against his leg and Keiji looked under the table. A persian blue stared back at him expectantly. A smile slipped onto his face and he reached out a hand for the cat to sniff. After thoroughly examining his hand, the cat allowed itself to be picked up. 

Keiji tossed a pack of wipes to Miya and placed the cat in his lap, scratching its head. A black collar informed him that this cat’s name was Eiji, and that he went by he/him pronouns. Miya dutifully wiped the table free of crumbs and fur. He stood up to retrieve their drinks and throw away the dirty wipe. 

The cat leapt onto the table immediately, shedding fur onto the clean surface. Keiji laughed and let out a quiet ‘umph’ as another cat leapt up to his lap. A tux this time, she/her with an English name: Echo. This one was a lot more vocal, putting her front paws against his chest and meowing in his face. 

He scratched under her white chin. 

“Well aren’t you popular,” Miya joked, handing him his tea. Eiji watched him for a moment before sniffing at his muffin and turning around to face Keiji. Miya scowled, “Rude.” 

“He’s just jealous,” Keiji whispered to Echo. She butted her head against his chin and he let his smile turn smug, looking up to meet Miya’s pout.

Miya tried to catch the attention of a calico walking past but was ignored. 

“What’s the point of coming to a cat cafe if the cats don’t like me?!” he exclaimed, throwing up his hands. 

The calico sauntered over and sat next to Keiji, green eyes peering up at him. 

* * *

“Keiji, where are you going every day?” his mother asked as he slipped on his shoes. Keiji paused, hand reaching out for the strap of his bag. 

“I made a friend.”

A smile split across her face, “That’s wonderful. Bring them around for dinner sometime, will you?”

He gave a strained smile back. Yeah, he was _not_ doing that. Especially considering that it’s Miya Atsumu.

“Maybe,” he replied. Not a refusal, but not agreeing either.

Keiji kissed his mother on the cheek and left, swiping open his phone for the directions Miya sent him earlier. For some reason, he had also requested that Keiji bring some food, so he threw together some sandwiches with lettuce, tomatoes, cheese, and mysterious meat slices that even his mother couldn’t identify. 

(By “some”, he made 8, because Keiji himself could probably eat half a dozen sandwiches, so he assumed the other setter could as well. And if he didn’t want them, then Keiji would eat them :). Gladly.)

His gps actually worked this time around, and Keiji was led to the park where they were a few days ago to conduct their “photoshoot”. 

Miya didn’t seem to be there yet, he deduced after glancing around the park. He sat down on a bench and began to wait. 

“Psst!” a voice hissed at him. Keiji looked to where the voice came from, his right? Behind him? There was no one there. “No, up. Yer not all that bright, are ya, Keiji-kun?” 

He scowled up and tilted his head up. Miya was sitting in a tree above him, hanging off the branch precariously.

“Get down from there, you’ll fall,” he frowned, the insult put out of mind in favor of making sure the branch doesn’t _collapse with Miya on it._

4.

“Nah, come up, Keiji-kun! It’s perfectly safe. ‘Sides, it’s another thing on my list, build a treehouse.” 

“A what?’ 

He grinned, “Treehouse! It’s exactly what it sounds like, tree in a house. Wait no-” Keiji rolled his eyes and snorted. “House in a tree! Yup.” 

There was only one branch low enough for him to get a hold on, and it was about eye level. He threw his bag up to Miya and heaved himself up with a grunt. 

“You’ve never made one before? Oh right, we’re in the city.” 

“If you’ve already made one then why’s it on your list?” Keiji said. He awkwardly stood up, steadying himself on the trunk. He held onto a branch above his head and stepped higher, slowly making his way to Miya.

Miya tsked and shook his head, “Ya don’t get it, Keiji-kun. We’re in _Tokyo._ ” 

“Yes, well, we’re also not allowed to destruct the trees in Tokyo, there aren’t many in the first place.” 

The blond’s face fell as if he hadn’t thought of that before. Knowing Miya, he probably hadn’t. 

“I brought a blanket so it doesn’t matter!” Miya shouted, unzipping Keiji’s bag, “So, did you bring what I asked?” 

“I made some sandwiches, if that’s what you meant,” he responded. The branch Miya was sitting on was nearly parallel to the ground, and thick enough that it could support both of them. “Why’d you bring a blanket? It’s like 33 degrees out.”

“I figured we’d need a roof, yeah? So lemme just-” Miya threw it up over them, covering two branches and barely holding on. It provided shade where the leaves couldn’t and was high enough that they didn’t need to hunch over.

Keiji unwrapped a sandwich and examined it, it was still cool in his hand.

“Itadakimasu.”

He bit into it. The mystery meat was alright, not the best but also not the worst, a flavor he couldn’t quite pin down. Guess that’s why it was called mystery meat. 

“Yo, what’d you put in this?” Miya asked, peeling the bread back. 

“Lettuce, tomatoes, cheese, mystery meat.”

Miya’s nose scrunched up, “Mystery meat? Yer not tryna poison me, are ya? Even with me gone ya still won’t make top 3.” 

He rolled his eyes, “That’s alright, I can live precariously through Kageyama-kun.” 

Miya began swinging his legs back and forth restlessly as he polished off the rest of his sandwich, reaching for another one. 

“Why’d ya make so many?” 

A small smile crept onto his face, “Why? You don’t want yours? I’d gladly take-” 

“Nope! Forget I said anythin’. They’re mine,” Miya very nearly growled. A laugh escaped Keiji and he unwrapped another sandwich. As he took a bite Miya shuffled over so their thighs were pressed together. He looked up with a questioning look and was met with a phone. 

“Smile!” Miya said. He snapped a photo and slid down the branch, tapping on his phone. 

“What was that for?” 

“Gotta commemorate our friendship somehow, right Keiji-kun?” he grinned. Keiji’s phone buzzed in his pocket but he didn’t bother pulling it out. 

“Isn’t this entire summer enough?” 

He hummed in response and shoved another sandwich into his mouth.

They spent another half hour in the tree until the sun reached its peak, making it unbearable to sit there any longer.

Keiji’s shirt stuck to his back with sweat- it felt disgusting. He rifled through his bag to make sure there wasn’t anything too delicate and tugged down their makeshift roof, stuffing it in. He tossed it down and watched it land with a small _thump._

He stepped down to a lower branch and leapt, landing on his feet and and crouching down low. Keiji straightened and looked up to see if Miya was following him or not.

The other setter jumped, whooping, and suddenly an unreadable look crossed his face as he landed on his right foot. Hard.

“Oh _fuck,_ ” he hissed, toppling to the side. Worry washed over Keiji as he stepped over and hovered, watching as the blond clutched at his thigh.

“What’s wrong? Did you jam your ankle? Scratched?”

“Nah, nah. Give me a moment. I’ll be fine,” he swatted behind him to push Keiji away. His right thigh. The one with the wrap around it. After a few tense moments Miya pushed himself off the ground, leaning heavily on his left leg.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Keiji frowned.

“Yup. Strained hamstring. Nothin’ too serious, just landed weird,” Miya looked up, a forced grin in place, “Why so worried, Keiji-kun? You gonna kiss it better for me?”

The only thing Keiji could do was take his word for it. He scooped up his bag and turned away.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Come on, I’ll walk you home. Sooner you get back, sooner you can rest that leg. Why were you even up and walking about if you had an injury?”

He heard the quiet sigh of relief before Miya spoke, “‘s just a strained hamstring. Few days of rest and it’ll be good as new.”

“Evidently you haven’t done that, seeing as we’re here right now.”

Add reckless to the list.

“What’re ya, my mom?”

And childish, too.

Speaking of, “My mother wants you over for dinner?”

Miya’s eyebrows raised, “Oh? Talkin’ about me, have ya, Keiji-kun?”

He rolled his eyes and glanced to the side to see Miya grinning, the only sign of his discomfort being the slight limp he walked with. It wasn’t strained this time. Which meant: he was also an attention hog.

Of course, Keiji became friends with possibly the worst person in Tokyo.

And he didn’t even live _in_ Tokyo.

.

[awful art of tree](https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-XuOcubRsVGU/X-FnPlUetJI/AAAAAAAAHiA/Eg3Y_oQdh2kNZOngr08CGyPSIa29gNT9wCK8BGAsYHg/s0/2020-12-21.jpg)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made another horrible sketch. The initial sketch was alright but I skipped lineart to just color it in a really shitty way and just didn’t shade.
> 
> If I thought the last one was bad, this one’s worse lol.
> 
> These chapters keep getting longer and longer but I want to speed up the plot (not that there is any) and just get going already.
> 
> Don’t look too deep into the chapter titles, they suck, ik. This entire work reminds of my first on ao3, an fmab fic. The everyday posting, horrible titles, etc.
> 
> Liked it, hated it, let me know, thanks.


	4. Crush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keiji gives Miya some nicknames and gets punched. Oh yeah and he has a cru-

5.

“Let’s go to the beach,” Miya said. Keiji turned his head towards him. 

“Isn’t Kobe right on the bay?” 

“Yeah, but it’s been awhile since I’ve gone. Too busy with volleyball an’ all that,'' he hummed. The beach would be crowded, and temperatures were still rising. It would take about half an hour of commute. Sand everywhere. 

“Alright," he said anyways, "Which one?” 

“Dunno, whichever’s closest, I s’pose,” he said, “D’you got trunks I can borrow? Didn’t bring any over.” 

He nodded, “Sure. Let’s go back to my apartment.” 

They changed course and ducked into an alleyway leading out to another crowded street. Turning towards his apartment block, a man bumped into him and apologized. 

“ _Sorry! Do you understand English?_ ” he asked. Ah, a foreigner. With someone Keiji assumed to be his wife and his child.

“ _Yes, are you lost?_ ” 

Relief washed over the man’s face and he smiled nervously, “ _Yes, we were heading to- er,_ Sa-sa-zu-ka _Station._ ” 

Keiji nodded and searched through his memory. 

“ _Head down this street until you see an intersection with a statue of a spirit, then turn right and follow the road until you see a staircase leading underground._ ”

“ _Oh, thank you!_ ” with that, the man left, still looking slightly lost. 

“Yer English is pretty good,” Miya commented as they set off again. 

“It’s adequate,” he shrugged, “As captain, I try and keep my grades up. I’m not playing volleyball after college.”

Miya was looking at him with an amused smile, “Wasn’t Bokuto yer former captain?” 

He smiled fondly, “Bokuto was… an exception.” And he always would be. 

Keiji led Miya down another street and hopped up the stairs until he reached the third floor. Turning right, passing one apartment, and then reaching his own. 

Keiji unlocked the door and pushed it open for Miya to enter first. The blond stood around awkwardly as he closed the door and slipped off his shoes at the genkan. 

“Kaa-san,” he called, “I brought the friend I spoke of over. We’re going to grab some clothes and go out again.”

His mother appeared, fiddling with her sleeves, dressed for work. She smiled at the sight of the two of them and Keiji strode over to greet her with a kiss on the cheek.

“This is Miya Atsumu, he’s in Tokyo just for this summer,” he introduced. Miya seemed to possess knowledge of basic manners and bowed. His mother tilted her head slightly and smiled. 

“Akaashi Keiko,” she said. A slight purse of the lips indicated she was thinking, “You were at Nationals, weren’t you? For the Interhigh?” 

Miya grinned, delighted. _Attention hog._

“Yup. I’m the setter for Inarizaki, played against Keiji-kun during the quarterfinals.” 

That game sucked. Fukurodani was still sloppy and uncoordinated, barely scraping by prelims and winning the first two rounds just by luck. Inarizaki had went on to destroy them in straight sets. 

What made it worse was that it had been one of the rare free weekends Bokuto had that he was able to travel to Tokyo, and he, along with the other graduates, watched as Fukurodani crumbled.

His mother nodded and checked her watch, her smile dropping, “I have to go or I’ll be late. Keiji, remember to lock the door, have fun you two!”

She snatched her bag from a hook on the wall and waved before stepping out of the apartment. 

“She’s nice,” Miya said. 

“You’re saying that because she recognized you,” Keiji rolled his eyes, “Stop standing in the genkan, come in.”

He toed off his shoes and followed Keiji into the living room, eyes darting from side to side to absorb everything. 

Keiji led him to the end of the hallway to a small room on the right. His parents made enough that they were able to afford a two bedroom apartment in Tokyo, not an easy feat. 

His room was neat, but he had a feeling it wouldn’t stay that way if Miya spent longer than 10 minutes in there.

The blond had sprawled over the bed, messing up the sheets. He slid open his closet and threw a pair of trunks of Miya, not bothering to turn around. He kicked off the skinny jeans he was wearing and tugged on a pair of shorts. He had no intention of touching the ocean, water just meant an easier surface for sand to stick to.

Keiji changed into a tank top and then turned around to see Miya already putting on the swim trunks. 

He turned back around. 

“You done?” 

“Yup. What do I do with my clothes?” 

“You’re probably going to want to change back afterwards, I have a duffel bag we can bring,” Keiji kicked his hamper out of the way to find the bag. He left the room to find a clean towel or two. 

“Ready?” 

“Yeah. I have some money on me, you?” 

He nodded and they left the room, Keiji making sure to lock the apartment behind them. 

“Oh shit wait should we bring a volleyball?” 

Of course he waited until it was too late to mention it. Keiji rolled his eyes and tossed the duffel at Miya and ran back to find a ball. 

-

The beach was crowded. And hot. And kind of gorgeous. Basically exactly what Keiji expected of the beach. 

He snapped a quick photo of the waves and made a mental reminder to send the picture to Bokuto- oh wait. He couldn’t do that, because he was b l o c k e d.

Miya enthusiastically led Keiji toward an empty space in the sand and he tossed his towel onto the ground. Keiji frowned. That would be such a pain to clean. Miya brushed his hair to the side and stripped off his shirt, subtly flexing when he noticed a few girls stepping onto the beach. 

“You look like a Chad,” Keiji snorted, taking a seat on the towel. Miya whipped around and scowled, hair falling back into his face. 

“What’s that s’pose to mean?!”

Stupid hair, thinks he's cool but really isn't, shirtless.

“Exactly what it sounds like, a Chad,” Keiji repeated. He grinned, “Chadsumu.” 

“Oi, don’t give me nicknames!” 

“Isn’t that exactly what you did to me, Bratsumu?” 

“Stop it!” he cried, jumping down to lean into Keiji’s face. Childish. “M’name’s Miya Atsumu and it shall not be tarnished!” 

Keiji rolled his eyes and leaned back, “I thought you were going to swim, Chadsumu?”

“Well now I don’t wanna!” Miya pouted. He dove towards the bag and pulled out a volleyball, spinning it on his finger, “Play against me, Keiji-kun!” 

With only two people? Not likely. It seemed like Miya could read his expression because then he continued, “Volleyball’s a popular sport, c’mon! Some people are bound to want to play.”

That much was true, it seems Miya had some sort of brains after all. Perhaps that was a bit too harsh. Sorry, Miya. 

“C’mon, c’mon! Let’s go,” he whined, pulling Keiji to his feet. “Keiji-kun, ya see that guy with the green shirt right there? He looks like the volleyball type.” 

“You’re so annoying, Gnatsumu.”

“And they say _I’m_ mean…” Miya grumbled. He pushed Keiji forward and split, calling towards a group of girls that just arrived. Keiji rolled his eyes for the umpteenth time.

* * *

Miya scanned down his list written down on a wrinkled piece of paper, “I feel like I should revise some of this stuff,” he commented. Keiji offered him a popsicle and he accepted it, ripping open the plastic and shoving it into his mouth. 

6.

“Like, I don’t think I’m boutta kidnap someone or get into a fight,” he said. 

Keiji scrunched up his nose, “You put kidnapping someone on your list??”

“Shaddap. I wrote this like two weeks ago,” he grunted. An idea struck Keiji and he tilted his head to the side. 

“Well what if someone consented to it?” he asked. Miya’s head popped up in surprise. “Just set a few rules to make sure no one goes too far, and there: you’ve got a fight.” 

He stared at Keiji in slight disbelief. 

“Are ya masochistic or somethin’??” he exclaimed. “The fuck?!” 

Probably not. If there was consent, then Miya could complete his list, at least, that was the logic Keiji went by. 

“I do think kidnapping someone isn’t the wisest decision, though,” he said. Keiji bit off the last of his popsicle and tossed the stick in a nearby garbage bin. He turned around to see Miya’s fist flying toward him.

A shock of pain bloomed over his cheek and Keiji stumbled backwards, hands flying up to cup his face. What the fuck?! 

He glanced up to see Miya grimacing, shaking out his hand.

“I was knockin’ some sense into ya,” he clarified. 

Keiji scowled, “You didn’t have to take it so literally.”

Miya’s fingers brushed over Keiji’s cheek and Keiji stepped back, away from the other setter. His hand dropped and he grinned.

“Well! That’s another thing off the list. I got a winnin’ popsicle, by the way,” he waved the stick in his hand, “I’m gonna go redeem it. You want another one? I’ll buy you one for lettin’ me punch ya.”

* * *

At what point does spending time with a person become ‘too much?’

Because a week spent with Miya Atsumu was 7 days too many. 

Instead of meeting up around noon like they normally did, Keiji was fussing over Miya’s hair in their room at a quarter past 5 because _they were having dinner with his parents_

As it turned out, the aunt Miya was staying with just happened to work next door to Keiji’s mother, and the two had gotten to talking until they somehow arrived to the topic of Keiji and Miya.

Now here they were.

“Your hair is possibly one of the ugliest variations of yellow I have ever seen,” Keiji sighed in frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose. Just looking at the monstrosity eliminated 10 years from his lifespan, nevermind trying to style it. 

“‘Scuse you, it’s _gold._ ”

“Shut up, Assumu.” 

He was using a never-before-touched tub of gel that was of Bokuto’s preferred brand (some of the strongest stuff there was), meant to be a gift for his former captain before forgetting all about it upon spotting a little owl keychain in a souvenir shop. 

At least he got some use out of it. Miya’s hair was the absolute worst- the color, the texture, the way it just flopped across his forehead. The nonstop commentary Miya provided certainly wasn’t helping his headache.

“Why’re ya doin’ my hair anyways? It’s just yer parents, not like they care much,” he kicked his legs back and forth. 

“Shut up, Bratsumu. Would it kill you to stay still for two seconds?” Keiji jabbed his side and Miya locked up. He smeared a handful of gel through the “golden locks” and combed them to the side (he had no clue what he was doing).

“Keiji-kun, ya feel like a mother fussin’ over her kid before a school dance or some shit like that.” 

It wasn’t the first time Keiji had been compared to a mother, it was one of Konoha’s self proclaimed “greatest jokes” he had ever made. Komi and Sarukui certainly didn’t help. He rolled his eyes and stepped back to examine his work. Not bad, but also not good, either.

What was even the point of doing Miya’s hair? He was literally dressed in his track jacket and a pair of volleyball shorts.

Ever since the Tree Incident, as he had dubbed it in his head, Miya had stopped trying to hide his injury, and he was now displaying the wrap around his thigh without shame. 

7.

“Yaknow, ‘fancy dinner’ was on my list, but that was kinda vague so I s’pose this counts, right?” Miya stood up, standing in front of Keiji’s full length mirror to scrutinize his hair. 

Keiji stepped out of the room to wash his hands in time for loud laughter to ring from the living room. His father’s head poked out to inform him: “Dinner will be in 5 minutes, all right?” 

He nodded and stepped into his bathroom. Keiji quickly rinsed his hands, scared to leave Miya alone in his room, and walked back in. 

Oh no. 

Miya was half under his bed, only his waist-down was visible. A sharp thud followed by a swear sounded from underneath. Keiji scowled. A snooper. He grabbed a hold of Miya’s ankles, eliciting a yelp, and tugged, the rest of his body appearing under him.

He raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

“I wasn’t doin’ anything!” Miya exclaimed immediately.

Despite being caught red handed. 

So he was also a liar. 

Keiji continued to stare at Miya, who began feeling the effects, fidgeting and eyes darting around nervously.

“Alright, alright, fine!” he threw his hands up in defeat, “Yer just like Kita-san! But why the fuck do ya have magazines with Bokuto on ‘em under yer bed?!” 

His face burned, a blush working its way across his cheeks and he kicked Miya’s thigh, “That’s none of your business. Especially considering this isn’t your home.”

He pretended not to see the way Miya’s jaw dropped open and began to tidy up his room. 

“Holy shit! You have a crush on Bokuto!” 

Keiji kicked Miya, who was still lying on the floor, again. _Please, shut up._ It was perfectly normal to keep magazines with your best friend/former captain, after all, not everyone is a nationally ranked spiker. Well, was.

“Keiji-kun, are you in love?!” 

“No, but I am about to kick your ass.” 

“You said a bad swear word,” Miya grinned, “‘Sides, you can’t do that, we’re about to have dinner! With yer parents!” 

_Bet._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rushed and sloppy and it sucks. I didn't even write #7 even tho that was the whole point of this fic :// HAPPY BIRTHDAY KAGEYAMA! I might redo this tomorrow morning, or maybe not!
> 
> Liked it, hated it, let me know, thanks :)


	5. Reveal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keiji forces Atsumu to study and finds out some things about him.

Keiji’s phone rang, Miya’s contact flashing across the screen, and he picked up with a sigh. 

“Yes?” 

“Damn, I don’t get a hello?” Miya said in mock offense, “I visited the- the what’s it called. The injury doctor dude. He said I’m not allowed to do anymore exercise or some shit like that- my leg isn’t healing.”

The physiotherapist? Yeah, he figured.

“And?” Keiji prompted. 

“So I think it’s time we move onto some of the indoor things.” 

Keiji could practically hear the grin on Miya’s face. 

8.

“Let’s have a sleepover!” 

He dropped his head against his desk and groaned. 

“Aw, c’mon, don’t be like that, Keiji-kun! Oba-san’s goin’ out tonight, so it’s perfect! Just bring a change of clothes and some food and we’ll be set,” he continued, “I’ll send ya my address, if ya don’t show up by 7 then I’m calling the police, see ya.” 

With that, the call disconnected and Keiji let out another annoyed noise. Knowing the way Miya was, he would probably follow through on the threat.

Keiji packed an overnight bag and left the apartment to find the nearest conbini. There was one just down the street, and he ducked in, heading straight for the chips. He selected a few bags, added shrimp chips, took two containers of plums, one pickled one dried, and dumped it all onto the counter with a pack of gum, just because. 

When he returned, his mom was already back from work and slumped at the kitchen table.

“Kaa-san,” he greeted, walking over to place his bag of purchases on the table. Keiji kissed her on the cheek.

“Keiji. Can you make some tea?” 

“Yes,” he padded into the kitchen to fill a kettle with water, “Is it alright if I stay with Mi-Atsumu-san for the night? He’s living across the street, I think.”

“That’s fine. When will you be back tomorrow?”

“Around noon, I think. If I wake up before then, that is.” 

She let out a light laugh, “Bring over some of the cake from last night for him.” 

He turned with a bemused look, “Weren’t they the ones who brought it in the first place?” 

“Yes, but if I recall, Atsumu-kun enjoyed it very much.” 

An image of Atsumu enthusiastically digging into the cake appeared in Keiji’s mind _… Fatsumu._

“Alright,” he paused, pouring the water into a cup, “Thank you.” 

.

Keiji readjusted the strap and knocked on the door impatiently, for the third time. 

“ _Damn it, give me a sec!_ ” Miya called from inside. Keiji rolled his eyes and sighed. The door was thrown open and the setter finally appeared, hair flying all over the place. 

“Yo, Keiji-kun,” he grinned, leaning against the doorframe, “How’re ya doing?” 

He stared at him for a moment before moving to step in. The apartment was smaller than Keiji’s, which was to be expected seeing as Miya’s aunt lived alone, and there was a futon rolled out in place of a coffee table, which was pushed to the side.

Keiji dumped his stuff onto the table and turned around, “What do people do at sleepovers?” 

“I dunno, that’s why it’s on my list. You’ve never done this before?” 

“I’ve never done a majority of the things on your list,” he said, opening up the container of umeboshi and popping one into his mouth. 

“Huh, loser,” MIya snorted. Keiji’s face twisted, was that an insult? “Like, everyone’s done this sorta stuff, right?” 

“Well wouldn’t that make _you_ a loser as well?” Keiji pointed out. Miya flushed and scowled, looking away.

“Shaddap! D’you wanna do some shit or not?” 

He gave the blond a deadpan stare, “Well, it’d be great if we actually _knew_ how to ‘do some shit,’ Bratsumu.” 

Miya exhaled loudly at the nickname, “Gimme some of that food, I’ll figure it out later.”

After popping in a movie, it ended up being one of the most boring things they had done, but Keiji liked the quietness of it, just sitting around eating junk while trading quips like- 

Well, like friends.

* * *

“It’s day 9!” Atsumu cheered as soon as Keiji picked up the phone. 

“Sadly, yes,” he replied. He scribbled down an answer on his math sheet. “Why’re you calling? I was just at your apartment this morning.”

“Hey, don’t say it like that- wait are you writing? Holy shit, Keiji-kun, are ya doin’ homework??”

Atsumu just completely avoided his question, okay.

He frowned, balancing the phone on his shoulder to reach for the eraser with his other hand, “Yes?” 

“Yer on break! What’re ya doin’ homework for?!”

“So that it doesn’t pile up?” he was struck with the realization, “Oh. You’re a procrastinator.” 

He heard Atsumu huff as he plugged x into an equation, “Damn right I am. I don’t think I even brought my summer work with me.”

“Wh- Atsumu you- what?! Aren’t you the captain this year?” Keiji was successfully distracted from his calculus work. 

“Yeah, well not everyone can be as star-student as you are.”

His brow furrowed, “You’re not even _trying._ ” He stood up suddenly, “We’re going to the library.”

Atsumu shuffled around on the other end of the phone, “What? Why?”

“The only acceptable reasons for _not_ doing your homework are that you’ve already completed it, or that you already know all the material. I doubt you check any of those boxes.”

“But we’re s’pose to do another thing on my list today!”

“Didn’t you say you would revise it? Change the ‘kidnap someone’ into ‘study date,’ then.”

.

“Just you wait, Keiji-kun. I’ll ace everything on that little quiz of yers,” Atsumu boasted as soon as he sat down, leaning forward with a challenging look. Keiji rolled his eyes, he highly doubted it.

The setter did not, in fact, ace everything. The simpler questions, like ‘find the solution in 5x squared plus 5x subtract 20’ he seemed to be able to answer, but that was only because they had learned and reviewed that for the past 3-4 years. His Japanese was passable, but his English was limited to volleyball terms and swears. Geography was horrid, because “why would anyone bother about land forms, huh??”, and his History was just basic facts about Japan. Biology, however…

All in all, a slightly below average student.

“Define a noun,” Keiji read off a flash card.

“A person, place, or thing,” Miya recited monotonously, “C’mon, we’ve been over that like a hundred times!”

“Reviewing older terms helps reinforce your memory. Tell me what’s wrong with this sentence,” Keiji said, he switched to English, “ _Mary and Bob and Dill and Sue went to the mall._ ”

“Excessive use of the word _‘and’_ , can just put a comma in between,” he responded, “Yeah, but it’s been like half an hour and my brain hurts. Can't we take a break?”

“In five minutes. What is the highest mountain in the world and where is it located?”

“Mount Everest, the Himalayas along the China-Nepal border, but there are taller ones originating in the ocean,” he droned, “We learned that in, like, grade school!”

“Stop complaining, Bratsumu, I’m helping you pass your finals,” Keiji sighed, shuffling the notecards in his hand, “Define a double helix.”

The blond’s head dropped back and collided with the wooden chair with a loud thud, “Two strands o’ DNA wrapped ‘round each other.”

“G-C and A-T are…?”

“Complementary base pairs.”

“What is a theme in a book?” 

“A universal message.” 

He tossed the cards onto the table and slumped in his seat, “You can take a break now.”

“Finally,” Atsumu let out a low groan, twisting in his seat, “Play a game with me, I’m bored.”

Keiji raised an eyebrow, “Like?” 

“I dunno, I ask you questions and you ask me?” 

“Doesn’t seem like a very fun game,” he commented, “Alright.”

“Do ya have a crush on Bokuto?”

“Why are you in Tokyo?” Keiji shot back with a faint blush. Atsumu scowled and glared at him. He looked away and let out a huff, crossing his arms and pouting.

Keiji reached towards a book on the table but paused when the other quietly cleared his throat.

“Osamu said he didn’t want to play volleyball anymore,” Atsumu exhaled and raked a hand through his hair, “We got into a big fight.”

Keiji sat back and nodded, absorbing the new information. He was right about the fight, but he never expected the famous Miya twins to break up. What would Miya Osamu abandon volleyball for?

“I got really mad at him and I think I used volleyball to cope. Went a bit too hard durin’ serves practice an’ I strained my hamstring. Kinda ignored it until it got worse, think I nearly tore it,” his gaze ran over the shelves of books surrounding them, eyes seeing but not really present. Definitely wasn’t over it yet.

“Was put out of commission for a week. ‘Tween ignoring ‘Samu and not being able to do anything, Gin ‘n Sunarin thought it’d be best if I spent some time alone, given that I kept in shape. Not that I would give up volleyball for anything,” he turned, quick and sudden, and a (fake) smirk manifested on his face. “So, I spilled. Your turn. Do ya like Bokuto?” 

Keiji mulled over his answer. Atsumu definitely didn’t want to linger on the topic, and he didn’t exactly want to lie, so…

“Yes.” 

Atsumu stared at him with an unreadable expression. Was he not expecting it? It was _Bokuto Koutarou_ they were talking about here. How could Keiji _not_ like him?

“That’s it?!” Atsumu exploded, “Yer not gonna give me any more?! I just spilled my entire tragic backstory and all you can give me is ‘yes’??”

Keiji snorted into his hand and leaned away from Atsumu, that was hardly a tragic backstory. 

“What more do you want me to say? I like Bokuto-san and I would like to pursue a relationship with him, but it seems unlikely given our current circumstance.” 

“That’s such a boring answer!” Atsumu whined, kicking at Keiji’s ankles, “Give me somethin’ more substantial! Do ya thirst after his biceps? Lust after his thighs? Anything!” 

“I think that’s enough of a break,” Keiji cleared his throat and willed away the heat in his face (Bokuto’s thighs were very nice, okay?), “Moving on. Which of the following do adverbs apply to? Nouns, adjectives, verbs, or…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to post everyday but uh... that ended up flopping. For the study date thing idk if that's actually stuff they learn in their third year because I learned all that in shit in like... 7th grade. I'm in America and the schools I went to are considered sUpEr AdvAncEd but like... we're in the US... how advanced could it be...
> 
> Liked it, hated it, let me know, thanks :)


	6. Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keiji and Atsumu force each other to go to therapy, and then they dance.

Keiji was sitting on the floor, staring at the ceiling when his mother rushed into his room holding her phone. 

“It’s Koutarou-kun,” she said before Keiji could ask. He reached out to accept the phone and pressed it against his ear just in time for an earsplitting “HEY HEY HEY!” sounded. 

“AKAASHI!” Bokuto yelled on the other side of the phone. Keiji winced and his mother rolled her eyes playfully before retreating into the living room.

“Bokuto-san, why didn’t you just unblock me if you wanted to talk?”

“I have to keep my promises, Aghaashi, you were the one who taught me that!” Bokuto’s voice was bright and cheerful, just the same as it was a month ago. A pang hit Keiji in his chest, of course Bokuto wouldn’t miss him, why would he?

“Yes,” he managed. Keiji kind of wanted to end the call, “How are you?” 

“I’m great, thanks! I saw on Instagram that you made a friend!” 

He paused before answering, they really were friends now, huh? “Yes, Miya Atsumu. He’s the setter for Inarizaki.” 

“Oh, really? That’s so cool! But don’t go fraternizing with the enemy, alright?” Bokuto warned, and despite his feelings Keiji smiled, “Why’s he in Tokyo, though? I thought Inarizaki was in Nagano Prefecture?” 

“Hyogo, actually, Kamomedai is from Nagano.” 

"Right! So I just wanted to call and say great job! I have to go- I’m going for lunch with the team, see you, Akaashi!” 

“Bye,” he said. Keiji sighed and got up, walking out into the living room to return his mother’s phone. 

“Thank you, Keiji,” she hummed, “You haven’t gone out today, have you? Are you not meeting with Atsumu-kun today?” 

He thought about it for a second, “I think he’s mad at me, actually.” 

Her eyebrows raised in surprise, “Really? Why?”

Keiji smiled, “I dragged him to the library to study yesterday.” 

His mother let out a laugh, “Ah, so he’s one of  _ those _ players.” 

“That’s exactly what I said,” he grinned. 

Somebody knocked on the door three times and then paused. Keiji and his mother both turned towards the door. 

“I think that’s for you,” she tilted her head. Another three knocks sounded. He stepped over and pulled it open to see Atsumu grinning. 

“Oh, I thought you wouldn’t be doing anything today,” Keiji stepped aside to invite him in. Atsumu’s grin dropped into a slight scowl, his brow furrowed in confusion. 

“What? Why would I be mad at ya?” 

“I figured you’d be skulking,” he shrugged, and Atsumu’s scowl turned into a pout as he glared at him, “What are we doing?” 

“I’m glad ya asked, Keiji-kun!” Atsumu beamed, expression switching quicker than Bokuto could say ‘emo.’ He drumrolled against his thighs and paused for the dramatic effect (so extra).. 

10.

“We’re going to couples therapy!” 

“Excuse me  _ what?” _ was his first thought that he immediately blurted out. Keiji took a step back and Atsumu chuckled. “I wasn’t sure if you were aware, but-” 

“We’re not a couple, yeah, yeah, I know,” Atsumu rolled his eyes but continued to grin, “At first I just wanted to see a shrink’s office ‘cause they’re s’pose to be real cool, yeah? But then it’d be creepy if I just broke into someone’s office and the whole point was for you to do stuff with me, so here we are!” 

Keiji stared at Atsumu in disbelief- seriously, how dumb could one person be?” 

“You do realize you can book a single session and ask a friend along, right? Couples therapy is to talk about relationships.” 

“Yer right, I didn’t think of that. But it’s too late and I blew like all of my allowance on this so… now ya gotta go with me!” Atsumu declared, throwing a hand around Keiji’s shoulder. He shrunk away from the touch.

So now he was pulling the guilt card. 

“It’ll be fun, Keiji, just go with him!” his mother called from the living room. Keiji scowled and Atsumu stuck his head out of the genkan. 

“Thank ya, Akaashi-san!” he turned back to Keiji, “Ya heard her! The only time the therapist was free was ‘round 5, so the only other option was to wait for like, 2 months or somethin’ for a better time.”

Keiji sighed. He really wasn’t getting out of this, “Alright, let’s go.” 

.

It was quiet, too quiet for Atsumu’s liking, Keiji could tell. The blond fidgeted and glanced around nervously as the therapist, who sat in front of them with a slight smile on her face, despite the fact that two boys sat in front of her. Nice.

The room was a bit small for the three of them (especially considering Atsumu and Keiji were both volleyball players over 6 feet) but it had a splash of personality to it, walls decorated with photos and the desk littered with knick knacks. The couch the two setters were squeezed together on was comfortable, several pillows decorated with animals behind them and a small stuffed fox sitting on the end.

Her eyes flitted from Keiji to Atsumu and she immediately leaned back to press a button on her computer, American pop playing from it. 

Atsumu’s shoulders relaxed the slightest bit but his leg kept bouncing. Keiji shuffled over and trapped the blond’s ankle with a leg of his own.

“So, my name is Kaneko Kaida and I enjoy travelling the world, how about you two?”

“Miya Atsumu, I like playing volleyball,” his voice was steady and confident but his foot tapped against Keiji’s erratically. Well, this was still a therapy session, might as well get some use out of it.

“Akaashi Keiji, I also play,” Keiji nodded. 

“It’s nice to meet you two, are you here to talk about your relationship?” she cut straight to the chase.

Atsumu opened his mouth but Keiji beat him to it, “No, Atsumu and his brother are fighting.” 

The blond snapped his mouth shut and whipped around to glare at him.  _ What the hell are you doing?? _ Keiji narrowed his eyes in return,  _ This is a t h e r a p y session. _

“Is that so?” she scribbled down something in her notepad, “Why are you here for couples therapy, then?”

“Atsumu thought you weren’t allowed to bring friends to individual sessions,” Keiji said. Since Atsumu wasn’t going to say anything, he might as well, “His brother is his twin and Atsumu recently discovered they would be separating sooner than he thought. I think he might be feeling a bit of separation anxiety.” 

Was he overstepping?

She hummed and glanced down at her notepad, “You’re 17, yes? I’m assuming he’s chosen a different career choice?”

Atsumu elbowed Keiji in the side and cleared his throat, “Yup. We’ve been playing volleyball together since we were kids.”

“Why are you so against it?”

He looked faintly offended, “He’s been my spiker for years! How could I not be when he just up and leaves me??” 

Heart on his sleeve.

“Sorry, it wasn’t meant to sound condescending, I’ll change my wording,” Kaneko smiled apologetically, “When you think about his decision, how do you feel?” 

Atsumu fell quiet, staring down at his interlaced hands. Several emotions flashed across his face, flickering out before Keiji could catch any of them. Was this a bad idea?

His face fell, open and vulnerable

“Scared,” he admitted quietly. To Keiji, it sounded loud in the small space, drowning out the music filling the short silence that followed. 

No, this wasn’t a mistake. Keiji admired Atsumu in many ways, as a setter and as a captain, yes, but most of all: he admired Atsumu’s strength. 

He didn’t run from his fears, instead he charged head-on and clashed with them. He lost more often than not, but at least he knew what he was going up against, and he pushed himself to overcome those limitations. 

Atsumu was strong. 

.

“Keiji-kun, yer the worst,” Atsumu groaned as soon as they stepped out of the office. “I hate feelings. Now I’m tired, too.” 

“How do you feel?”

Atsumu scowled, “I just spent an hour talkin’ about how I feel! I don’t hafta answer you.” 

Keiji rolled his eyes, Atsumu was perfectly fine, though he was extra. Bratsumu.

“The lady was nice-” 

“Kaneko-san,” he interrupted.

“-she gave me back some money ‘cause she changed it to an individual session.”

That was nice. They spent the rest of the walk back with Atsumu blabbering about whatever was on his mind while Keiji tried to keep Atsumu from pushing him off the sidewalk, as per usual. 

He mulled over the past hour, occasionally shoving Atsumu to the side, thinking about how open Atsumu seemed with his emotions with the therapist, as opposed to how he normally danced and snapped around the topic.

“Are you homesick yet?” Keiji spoke up. Atsumu paused in his animated retelling of an old production of ‘Beauty and the Beast’ and hummed, tilting his head to the side. 

“Nah, not really.” 

That was interesting. He seemed quite bitter about being exiled when they first met, yet now, a week and a half later, he was perfectly fine? Especially after spilling his heart out?

“Why not?’ 

“Well,” Atsumu grinned, bright and sudden, “Yer here, aren’t ya?”

* * *

The sun was barely over the horizon when Keiji shifted uncomfortably. Why was he awake? Oh right, there was an uneasy feeling tugging at the back of his skull. A low groan ripped out of him as he yawned, reverberating throughout his entire body. 

He turned to the side to see a pair of hazel eyes examining him.

“Oh,  _ fuck! _ ” Keiji swore as he jumped, instinctively scooting away from Atsumu perched at his desk. He quirked a smug eyebrow and Keiji glared, rubbing at his eyes to clear them of any gunk, “What are you doing in my room? It’s like 6 in the morning.”

“Yer dad let me in while leavin’ for work,” Atsumu strolled over and flopped onto the bed, trapping Keiji’s legs under him as if he hadn’t just nearly given Keiji a heart attack.

“Great, but  _ why _ are you here?” he leaned back onto his bed, throwing an arm over his eyes to block out the rising sun.

11.

“We’re goin’ square dancing, of course.” 

Keiji removed the arm to glare at Atsumu. At this point, the random things the blond had them running around Tokyo to do didn’t faze him anymore, but  _ Atsumu woke him up at the crack of dawn to go square dancing? _

“Do you  _ realize _ what time it is??” he hissed, throwing a hand out to gesture towards his window. Atsumu rolled his eyes. “The grandmas don’t congregate until after dinner, Atsumu!”

“Stop bein’ so dramatic.”

The. Fucking.  _ Audacity. _

“Miya, you are going to walk over to that closet, change into pajamas, and get into bed with me right this moment or  _ so help me God, _ ” he snarled. Atsumu let out a slight laugh before backing off, holding his hands up in surrender.

Keiji began to drift off as Atsumu rustled around his closet. A hot breath and a low voice tickled his ear just as he hovered on the edge.

“Ya should’ve said something sooner if ya wanted me in yer bed this badly.” 

Keiji kicked Atsumu.

.

He slept until noon, or rather,  _ they _ slept until noon. Keiji woke up a hot, sweaty mess with an arm wrapped tight around his torso and a leg thrown over his hip. Oh,  _ great, _ Atsumu was a cuddler! 

Keiji sent his condolences to Osamu before he began working on detaching the apparent koala that was Miya Atsumu.

When all of his attempts managed to do nothing to Atsumu, he figured his best option was to just roll over and hopefully the setter would just go splat! on the floor. 

“Ow- fuck!” Atsumu’s eyes snapped open and he glared at Keiji, “What the fuck was that for, ya scrub?!”

He narrowed his eyes. “You were awake?” 

“‘Course I was! No way I coulda stayed asleep with all the ruckus you were making!” 

“Then why didn’t you move??” 

“It was  _ funny, _ ” he huffed. Keiji inhaled deeply and willed himself to keep a calm head and not give in to the urges telling him to strangle Atsumu.

He threw one last glare at Atsumu before snatching a change of clothes from his closet and shuffling to the bathroom. 

The shower cleared his head, focusing not on the fact that Atsumu was the absolute  _ worst, _ but that they were going to be square dancing. 

Square dancing was alright, he had only tried it once before when his mother had felt adventurous, and they had run around Tokyo looking for a plaza filled with music. It was fun, he remembered, though a bit too complex for his brain at the time. He was certainly much more coordinated now, and hopefully he wouldn’t topple someone over.

“G’mornin’ Akaashi-san!” he heard Atsumu call outside the door, followed by rapid banging, “Hurry up, Keiji-kun, I gotta pee.” 

He knocked his head against the wall and sighed. Well, the peace was nice while it lasted. He turned off the water and quickly dried himself off, movements hurried by the stupid knocking. 

Keiji squeezed some toothpaste on his toothbrush and stuck it in his mouth, opening the door. Atsumu pushed past him and he rolled his eyes, closing the door behind him. 

“Good morning, Keiji,” his mother greeted, “When did Atsumu-kun come in?” 

“Otou-san let him in when he left,” Keiji muttered around a mouthful of foam. 

She hummed and grabbed her bag off the hook, “What’s your plan for today?” 

“Atsumu wants to go square dancing.” 

“It’s been a while, huh? Maybe I should ask Miya-san if she wants to go… I’m off to work, have a good day, Keiji.” 

Miya-san? Oh, right, Atsumu’s aunt.

“Bye, kaa-san.”

“Bye Akaashi-san!” the setter appeared behind Keiji. He walked back to the bathroom and spat in the sink. He rinsed out his mouth and straightened to see Atsumu leaning against the doorway. 

“What’s up?” 

Atsumu gave him an eyeroll so exaggerated Keiji’s head hurt just watching him, “I’ve been waitin’ for ya for  _ hours, _ Keiji-kun. Can ya hurry yer ass up already?” 

“I already told you, Bratsumu, it doesn’t start until after dinner.” 

“So yer saying if we get dinner right now we’ll be able to start?’ 

Reason #1562 Keiji was regretting his decision to befriend Atsumu. 

.

Atsumu clung to Keiji the entire day, whining and crying about wanting to go outside while he cooked, while he did his homework, the entire day. 

“I have waited a total of 14 hours today for you to do whatever the fuck it is you need to do, it’s my turn,” Bratsumu huffed, “If we miss it because you can’t find yer fucking  _ keys _ then I’m boutta bust yer kneecaps.” 

“Stop being so dramatic, I found them,” Keiji stepped outside to join Atsumu and locked the door behind them. “I don’t know where they normally square dance, but if we wander around we should be able to hear music at some point.” 

Another flaw of Atsumu’s was that he was so easily distracted. The smell of barbecue? Let’s go eat something! A charismatic salesman? We have to buy something! 

2 out of every 3 times Keiji turned around to check for Atsumu, the blond had already wandered off to look at something else. 

By the time they made it to the grandmas, there was a small crowd had already gathered. 

Atsumu was overjoyed at finally finding his objective, leaping straight in in the middle of a song. Keiji stepped in next to him and stared at the instructor who moved to the beat of the music, twisting and turning in time. 

“When yer here yer s’pose to  _ join! _ ” Atsumu yelled over the music. Keiji rolled his eyes but began with the footwork. It kind of reminded him of DDR, just slower with and it flowed better than the rapid pace of the arcade game. 

It involved a lot of shuffling and little jumps, the instructor with a wide smile on his face and he moved smoothly, making it seem like he was gliding over the concrete.

The song was a Chinese one he didn’t recognize, since this form of square dancing originated in China, and he could spot more than one Chinese tourist jumping in with the crowd. 

He glanced to the side and saw Atsumu already watching him. 

“Don’t just half-ass it!” he yelled, “Do the whole thing!” 

Atsumu turned away and focused back on the front again. He had a bright grin on his face, looking exhilarated as he moved. Atsumu danced the same way he spoke, rough and rugged, but the way he set bled into it as well, precise with a whole lot of personality, it made you want to watch him, want to rise to his level. 

Didn’t that just describe Atsumu perfectly? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so unedited that it's so long lol. The square dancing at the end isn't Western style, it's ~Chinese style~. In China it's called guang chang wu (also known as da ma wu) and honestly the best thing I've ever witnessed. Sadly, I only participated once but that was as a very unwilling 9 year old. But now I want to go back but don't have the chance too :(( 
> 
> Liked it, hated it, let me know, thanks :)


	7. Layers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keiji and Atsumu bake.

For the first time, Keiji was the first to text Atsumu

Me

_ Can you please open your door, I think your aunt’s out and I’m freezing _

Sent 7:18 AM

Bratsumu

_ U ficling yhpocritee?? _

_ U yelled at me whe n i wokr u up and now?? _

_ Fucl u its summer theres no way its cold outside _

_ Wait what whre u outside _

Sent 7:21 AM

He only felt the slightest bit of remorse for waking up Atsumu (he deserved it okay), but it really was cold outside because there were currently thick grey clouds covering up the sky and dripping water all over the place.

Fuck precipitation. 

The door finally opened to reveal Atsumu, looking like he just rolled out of bed in a pair of boxers and a black shirt with the words ‘NORMAL PEOPLE SCARE ME’ printed in English (very edgy), as well as the textbook definition of bedhead. 

“Fuck you,” was his greeting, “Why’re you here? Why’re you soaking wet?” 

“It’s raining,” Keiji brushed past him to step into the apartment. There was a mess of blankets on the couch, presumably where Atsumu was sleeping, and a large open suitcase in the corner of the room with clothes spilling out of it. 

Oh, Atsumu must have cleaned up the place last time he had visited. 

“Yeah-” he broke off to yawn, “An’ why didja run here ‘stead of staying home?”

“I needed to talk to you,” Keiji stripped off his hoodie and threw it onto the hardwood floor. “My father is going to be out of town on a business trip, leaving today, and my mother’s going with him for a mini vacation.”

“Okay? Why’re you tellin’ me this?” Atsumu collapsed back onto the couch, pulling the blankets over himself, “Can ya not meet up for a few or something?” 

“No, I was wondering if I could stay with you, actually. Or rather, you stay with me.”

The blond cracked open one eye and tilted his head back to look at Keiji upside down, “What. Why’re ya askin’ me today? Aren’t they leaving today?”

“Well to be fair I just found out half an hour ago,” he frowned, “Sorry about that. I understand if you can’t, I’ll just go to Kozume’s-”

“Nah, it’s fine. Why didn’t you just fucking text me?” Atsumu groaned, flipping over, “Stop standing there lookin’ all pitiful. I think there’s some clean clothes in the suitcase.”

Keiji nodded even though he couldn’t see the action and padded over, gingerly picking through the mess of clothing. He was pleasantly surprised to find that his pants hadn’t soaked through to his underwear and he changed into Atsumu’s rather new Tokyo skyline shirt and a pair of sweatpants. 

Now what.

He curled up on the other armchair that had been squeezed into the living, pulling out his phone. 

12.

“I want to make a fancy ass tiered cake,” Atsumu croaked. Keiji hummed and looked up, “3 layers. Smooth as shit frosting with those little flowery things.” 

“Please don’t compare frosting to shit,” he said.

“We’re going to do it at yer apartment ‘cause I can’t go back to sleep and it’s all your fault.”

“Alright,” he agreed steadily, that was fair, Atsumu was already doing him a favor by letting him stay anyways, “What type?” 

“One of those Western ones. I want different types of cake, too. Chocolate, vanilla, strawberry, like one of those Neo-things.”

“Neapolitan?” 

“Yeah. And to make it from scratch. And sprinkles. I want sprinkles.” 

That could be arranged, though he had a feeling the ‘make it from scratch’ part wouldn’t go too well.

.

Surprisingly, Atsumu was actually quite adept at baking, dancing from bags to bottles around the mixing bowl. 

The only mishap so far had actually been because of Keiji, when Atsumu had snuck up behind him and he flinched so hard that a cup of flour ended up spilled across the floor. 

“We don’t have wooden dowels for a tier cake,” Keiji said, scrolling through a recipe on his phone. Atsumu tilted his head to the side. 

“We can use chopsticks.”

He hummed but acquiesced, opening a drawer to pull out a few chopsticks, “They might not be strong enough.” 

“It’s three layers, one on top of another, how hard could it be?” Atsumu rolled his eyes.

“It’s 6, actually. We made two layers for each cake, or rather, we’re making,” Keiji corrected. Maybe straws would work better than chopsticks?

“Whatever. Can ya mix this? My arms hurt,” Atsumu whined, thrusting the bowl towards him. He glanced down at the pathetic lump of butter coated in sugar. 

“Just wait for it to soften, we took the butter straight out of the fridge.” 

Atsumu crossed his arms and leaned against the kitchen counter, narrowly avoiding sweeping all of their ingredients onto the floor. He suddenly looked a lot more like Osamu in the moment, well more than usual, with an indifferent expression, eyes lazy. 

Keiji turned away and poked at the butter experimentally. 

“This is so boring,” Atsumu pouted, and- yup, no longer looking like his brother. “Can’t we just take it out?” 

“Yeah, it’s been 15- PUT ON A GLOVE!” he nearly yelped, diving forward to snatch Atsumu’s hand away from the open oven, “You’re a setter! Aren’t you supposed to take care of your hands?!” 

“Sorry, sorry, Keiji-kun,” Atsumu waved him off. He wrapped a cloth around his hand and reached for the second set of pans. “Look at ‘em! We’re making a cake!” 

Indeed they were. 

After Atsumu snatched the mixing bowl away from Keiji and beating the butter into submission, they finally had an array of frosting to decorate their cooled cakes with.

“Just- no, stop. Stop eating the buttercream. No- let  _ go, _ Bratsumu move!” Keiji grunted, hip checking Atsumu to the side.

“Fuck you! This is s’pose to be  _ my _ cake!” he snarled, shoving him right back, “I’ll eat the damn frosting if I want to!”

“Then there will be none on the cake!” 

“To hell with the fucking cake! The strawberry tastes like shit anyways!” 

“Then why the hell did you want to make a cake?!” 

“To eat the fuckin’ frosting! Why else would I want to make a fuckin’ cake?!” 

Keiji threw his hands up in defeat, “Whatever pleases you, I guess. You’re cleaning the bowls.” 

“What?!” 

He slouched over to the living room and crawled under the unlit kotatsu they had yet to put away. Keiji laid still for a few moments before it became too stuffy. 

He peeked his head out to check if Atsumu had messed anything up yet. Atsumu was crouched down next to the table, and he was met with the blond’s calves. 

“How do ya slice the cake so ya get everything?” 

“You finished assembling it?” Keiji asked. He crawled back out and accepted the hand Atsumu stuck out to help him up.

A crooked grin was flashed his way, “Yup. The little rosettes were a bitch to do, but I even got some frosting left over.” 

He punctuated this with digging a finger into the bowl and sticking it into his mouth.

“Color me impressed,” Keiji said, spinning the cake around to examine it, “It’s almost Instagram worthy.” 

“Hey, whaddya mean ‘almost’?! It’s perfect,” Atsumu frowned.

He did a great job on the cake, appearance-wise. His steady hand made the piping look neat and professional, and even without an icing spatula the outside looked smooth. It would look great if-

“The frosting is starting to melt off the cake. You needed to wait longer for it to completely cool down. Since we used chopsticks the ends are poking out the top. The bottom layer is slowly collapsing from the weight of the top two cakes.”

“Jeez, so harsh, Keiji-kun. I play volleyball, not bake. Back to the cake, how d’you get a little of everything?”

Did Atsumu really know nothing about cakes? Keiji furrowed his eyebrows and turned to him, “You don’t. That’s the thing with tiered cakes, you just take one slice out of one of the layers.”

_ “EXCUSE ME?!” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to write more... but then this was already long enough on it's own so. Well more random thoughts: the "normal people scare me" shirt Atsumu was wearing actually exists, just in hoodie form, and it's my fav piece of clothing I've ever owned. I was so disappointed when i found out you only cut one part of a tiered cake you wouldn't believe. Also Atsumu doesn't like mad keiji. All these chapter titles sound so deep like there's an actual plot but there really isn't. Liked it, hated it, lemme know thanks. Aight bye.


	8. Train

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keiji and Atsumu ride around on the subway and Keiji agrees to something he regrets later on.

13.

“Let’s ride around the metro for the whole day.” 

“That sounds like an incredible waste of time and money,” Keiji replied, “Let’s do it.” 

Atsumu looked positively delighted, “I knew I’d be able to pull that stick out of yer ass!” 

He shut the door in the dumb blond’s face and scowled. Of course that would be his response, why wouldn’t it be.

“Wait Keiji-kun no!” Atsumu cried pathetically, banging on the door, “I didn’t mean it, swear!”

He should probably open the door before they get a noise complaint.

“Let’s go.”

.

“How the fuck do you read this shit?!” Atsumu exclaimed, squinting at the board. 

“It’s not that hard. They even labelled it,” Keiji pointed to the large red dot covering the station they were standing in. “We’re at Shirokanedai Station right now, see? Two lines run through it. Don’t you go to school in the city?” 

“Yeah but we don’t have this sort of bullshit, we’re not as big as Tokyo. I want to go on the blue one.” 

“Both of them are blue.” 

“Are ya blind or something? The dark one’s blue, the other’s _teal,_ a mix of green and blue, see?” 

Keiji bit back a retort about Atsumu’s colorblindness, seeing as he called the mop of hair that flopped over his face like a limp noodle “golden.”

Instead, he rolled his eyes, “Alright. I’ll go buy tickets.” 

“Aw, so sweet,” Atsumu cooed, “Payin’ for my train ticket and everything! Ya didn’t have to-” 

Keiji raised an unimpressed eyebrow. The dumb blond shut up immediately.

They stood side by side on the train, holding onto one of the straps hanging from the ceiling. 

“Practice is starting again tomorrow,” Keiji said as they passed Shirokane-takanawa. 

“Yeah? What’s yer schedule.” 

“2 hours in the morning from 8-10. Then we let the basketball and badminton teams use the gym until 4, and then another 3 hour practice. After that we usually split for individual, anymore and I think we’ll be overworked.” 

“W e a k,” Atsumu muttered under his breath before clearing his throat, “Ya think 6 hours is enough?” 

Keiji side eyed him, “If anything on your list takes more than 6 hours then I fear for my sanity.” 

“My leg’s cleared for exercise,” Atsumu said as they stopped for Onarimon. Keiji hummed in response.

“What’s your training plan until you return to Hyogo?” he asked when the train began running again. Atsumu didn’t respond. 

“D’you think I can come with ya?” Atsumu looked away when they paused in Otemachi. Keiji quickly ran through several scenarios in his head. A, he says no and Atsumu just accepts it. B, he says no and Atsumu sulks and/or whines. C, he says yes and the team benefits, getting an outside eye on their plays. D, he says yes and team spirit plummets because Atsumu has no shame, no filter, and high expectations when it comes to volleyball (he was actually quite famous for it). Or the most improbable, E, he says yes and it turns out Atsumu is a spy and he sells all of their plays to Inarizaki.

C would be the best case scenario, but if Keiji was being honest? He would probably deck Atsumu in the face if E happened.

“Alright,” he agreed. “Just don’t terrorize the first years, I’m quite fond of Yui-kun.”

Atsumu let out an amused huff, “‘s not my fault if they turn out to be scrubs. If they can’t hit my tosses then they just suck.” 

There it was, the infamous line. Keiji felt his face twitch, “It’s a good thing _I’m_ the setter then. We could always use a ball boy.”

The dumb blond’s scandalized gasp and protests fell upon deaf ears.

* * *

“Alright,” Keiji clapped to gain everybody’s attention, “I already sent all of you the schedule so you know the plan for the rest of the summer. I hope your two weeks of break has treated you well. We have roughly two and a half months until the prelims for Spring Nationals begin, but we’ve been exempt from the first round since Fukurodani made it to finals last year. Use these two and a half months wisely, work on perfecting your tricks and developing new moves for the upcoming tournament. We’ll start this morning with a run around campus and then splitting off into two teams for a quick match, followed by serve practice until the basketball team arrives.” 

He didn’t miss the way the team’s eyes kept flickering over to the dumb bitch standing in the corner, a relaxed posture with a sharp awareness in his eyes. 

Said dumb bitch cleared his throat loudly and obnoxiously. Keiji rolled his eyes. 

“Joining us for the time being will be Miya Atsumu, the starting setter for Inarizaki High,” he introduced, “He will be mainly working with the spikers, though our pinch servers could learn a thing or two from him.” 

Atsumu preened at the underlying compliment and sauntered over to stand at Keiji’s side. 

“That’s right. Y’all’ll be workin’ with me. I’ll tell it to ya straight: anybody who can’t hit my tosses just sucks,” he developed a sharp edge to his lazy grin, “Though if I have anythin’ to do about it, all of you will be able to by the end of summer.” 

“Stop trying to act so cool,” Keiji muttered before he was pulled off to the side by Onaga. 

“A-Akaashi-san. I don’t mean to be disrespectful or anything, but are you sure bringing _Miya Atsumu_ to our practices is a smart move? I mean, what if he just uses everything against us? We won’t be able to pull any surprise moves on Inarizaki if we play them during Nationals,” he whispered quickly, eyes still darting over to where the dumb blond was attempting to flirt with their manager. 

“Then we’ll face it when it comes,” Keiji gave him a tight smile, “Though I have no doubt we have the strength to meet Inarizaki head-on.”

Onaga’s smile was a bit shaky but he was obviously feeling a bit better after saying his piece. Keiji clapped his hands again and signalled for them to move, leading the team out the doors. 

Atsumu fell into step next to him and kept pace, “Do I get a tour of the place? Fukurodani Academy’s real prestigious, ain’t it?” 

Keiji rolled his eyes, “We’ll only be going around the edge of campus. All of the gyms and courts are south of campus and the cafeteria is in the middle. Dorms block is to the east. All the classrooms wrap around in an ‘L’ shape, first years are in the north, third in the west, second in the corner.” 

“Was hopin’ for something more detailed,” Atsumu leaned forward eagerly, “Where’s the vandalised bathroom? The place where kids play hooky? The place where kids hook up? The lunch spot?” 

“We won’t have much of a reputation left if I spill all the secrets,” Keiji frowned, “We’re passing the third year classrooms right now, Bokuto-san and I used to wander around the hallways during lunch.” 

Atsumu tilted his head to the side, “You had lunch with yer crush? And spent like 5 hour practices with him? And hours of individual just tossin’ to him? How the hell didn’tcha confess?” 

He rolled his eyes, “Not everybody lets emotions cloud their judgement, Atsumu-san. I had to think about what was best for the team, a relationship at that point would have ruined our dynamic and would’ve become too distracting.”

“That’s literally how decisions are made! Through emotional bias!” Atsumu exclaimed, “There’s a difference ‘tween letting emotions affect yer playing and letting emotions guide yer decisions.” 

“All of my decisions are literally about volleyball. I’m the captain. That’s what I do.”

“You did just fine for the last two weeks!” 

“I met you in a sporting goods store.”

“Okay that’s besides the point! I’m just sayin’ that if ya like him then you should go for it!” 

Keiji slowed to a walk to let the rest of the team catch up and make sure there were no stragglers. Onaga sent him a worried look as he jogged past. 

He turned to Atsumu as the last player caught up, “You of all people should understand why I would be reluctant to start a relationship. Haven’t you ever been so immersed that you end up neglecting your relationships?”

.

Atsumu was actually the worst. 

During their small sides match he wouldn’t stop taunting their libero, since he was playing as one for Keiji’s team, and he didn’t hesitate to replicate the jump-from-the-back-line set that Karasuno’s libero often pulled during games. 

It didn’t help that all of their spikes were getting received by him, which, instead of motivating them, just ended up depressing them when all of their plays were shut down.

During their serve practice he wouldn’t stop slamming spike serves down the net at their poor libero, and the one time he managed to dig it Atsumu would just switch to float serves.

Everyone was just watching him with a mix of awe and fear. 

He also stood out like a beacon amongst their sea of blues and whites, with his black shirt and red shorts. 

After that borderline disastrous practice, Keiji was heavily considering just banning Atsumu altogether.

“Hey, wait up!” Atsumu called, running up to him, “I was thinking ‘bout what stuff we could do, right? And-” 

14.

“I want to trip somebody.” 

“That’s stupid. Have you never done that before?” 

“Well I’ve tried but ‘Samu just ends up turnin’ the tables and Sunarin jumps over my legs,” he whined, “C’mon.” 

He glared at Atsumu, “No. How am I supposed to help you? I’m not letting you trip one of my players, they could get hurt.”

Atsumu rolled his eyes, “Who said they had to be one of your players?” 

Which was Keiji’s only forewarning before he was sent sprawling over the pavement. His chin collided with the sidewalk painfully as his hands flew out to lessen the impact. 

“Ow- fuck. Fuck you,” he hissed. His palms stinged annoyingly and something dripped from his chin, “Great, now I’m bleeding.” 

Atsumu paused his cackling for a second to spare a glance at Keiji glaring at him before turning away to burst into a fresh round of laughter. 

He scowled and stalked off, leaving the stupid bitch behind.

“Wait- where the fuck do I go- sorry, sorry, Keiji-kun! Yer hands are alright, yeah?” 

“Yes. I’m going back to the school.” 

“What? Why?” 

“The clinic. For my chin.” 

“Oh shit yeah- sorry ‘bout that too,” Atsumu chuckled, “Wait, can I still come to practice?” 

“Maybe if you do something besides heckle my team.” 

“That wasn’t heckling! That was _constructive criticism!_ ” 

Keiji finally turned to Atsumu, disbelief written all over his face, “You call that _constructive?_ You told Anahori-kun that his sets were that of a grade schooler’s.” 

“I’m just tellin’ it to him straight! If everyone keeps on babyin’ him how the hell’s he s’pose to lead Fukurodani next year as a setter??” 

He made a disgusted noise, “That decides it. You’re not coming to practice anymore.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess what Atsumu ends up going to more practices lol. Don't worry abt akaashi he just has a few trips bc Atsumu is a jerk. Also RIP to those people who can't read subway maps :)
> 
> Liked it, hated it, let me know, thanks :)
> 
> (ps i love this chap title it has a double meaning :D)


	9. Food

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keiji and Atsumu eat and talk.

“Oi, Keiji-kun. Shuichi-kun, c’mere,” Atsumu beckoned the two setters over, “Let’s play a game.” 

“We just did,” Keiji said. “You lost 25-23, remember?” 

“Shaddap. No like, a better game. Shuichi-kun needs to be able to get under any ball, even if the receive is off.” 

He had a point, Anahori was always too slow to move and was never able to get a good angle to get a toss in. Keiji opened his mouth but was cut off by Anahori.

“Please, Miya-san!” he practically had stars in his eyes. Was Atsumu really that great? 

“See? The kid wants to do it, so we’re doing it!” Atsumu cheered. Keiji rolled his eyes but fetched a volleyball out of the cart, passing it over to Atsumu. Anahori was only a year younger than him, but Atsumu was acting like some sort of veteran. “Just set the ball up after callin’ their name. If the next person doesn’t get it then that person has to do a penalty.” 

“That’s dumb. What happens if the person setting it purposefully throws it?” 

Atsumu smirked, “Well that’s what makes it fun, isn’t it?” 

He sighed, “What’s the penalty?” 

“A round of diving receives around the court?” Anahori suggested. Atsumu quickly agreed and ordered them to spread out, nearly colliding with Onaga in his haste. 

“Aight, Keiji-kun!” Atsumu called, tossing up the ball. Keiji shuffled over to the side to get under the ball. 

“Anahori-kun!” he set it a bit lower than normal and the other setter rushed over. 

“Akaashi-san!” Anahori tossed it back. It was too low, Keiji dropped to one knee and called for Atsumu, bringing it high. Higher balls meant more time for the setter to make a decision, and more time for the opponent to recover.

He scrambled to his feet when Atsumu did one of those stupid Kageyama-style minus tempo tosses, “Keiji-kun!” 

Keiji glared at him and sent it long for Anahori, who backpedalled quickly and jumped to reach the ball.  “Miya-san!” 

“Call me Atsumu,” he replied, “Here ya go, Keiji-kun.” 

He tipped it over, barely reaching a meter, and Keiji glared at him. 

“Oops, looks like ya missed something,” Atsumu grinned, “Off ya trot.” 

“You’re not allowed in practices anymore,” Keiji threatened but left to make a round around the gym. He adjusted Yui’s serving form for a moment before continuing. 

When he returned Atsumu was chatting with Anahori, setting the ball easily back and forth. 

“Keiji-kun, have fun? Was just talkin’ to Shuichi-kun ‘bout how much better I was.”

“That’s not true!” the second year interjected, “He was giving me advice on my form!” 

The blond let out a huff of air, “Neither of you let me do anything fun!” 

“I’ve let you have plenty of fun, you’re still here, aren’t you?” 

Keiji made sure to give Atsumu a faulty toss on his next round, because he was petty like that. Atsumu was not pleased.

.

“What are we doing today?” Keiji asked as they wandered around the school looking for a place to buy some lunch. 

15.

“I want to enter one of those food challenges. I think there might’ve been some in Kobe but like, I was either too young or playin’ volleyball,” Atsumu spun a volleyball he had snagged from the gym on his finger. 

Keiji slipped out his phone and pulled up a webpage, “Alright, what kind were you thinking? Spice? Amount? Weird?” 

“I don’t want to eat bugs or some nasty shit like that, how good’s yer spice tolerance, Keiji-kun?” 

“Not that high, I’m afraid. I can eat quite a lot, though.” 

Atsumu clapped, “There we go. Got any results?” 

Several, actually, “There’s a ramen bar three blocks over, if you can eat 6 bowls of ramen straight then it’s free of charge. If not, then you have to pay for all 6, even if you didn’t finish all of them.” 

The setter looked quite pleased, “Bingo. I could prob’ly do 6, can we choose what’s in it?” 

“I’m not paying if you can’t stomach it,” Keiji warned before answering, “Yes, but size is non-negotiable, obviously. It’ll take quite a while for them to make and get it out, though.”

“Have some more faith in me,” Atsumu scoffed indignantly. This was the stuff he was prideful about? The amount he could eat? Then again, growing up with a twin like Atsumu did most likely made everything into a competition. 

Keiji would bet quite a high amount that if the twins ever decided to partake in an eating competition, one, if not both, would end up with an upset stomach.

They arrived soon enough, and Keiji pulled open the door for Atsumu, propping it open with his foot. 

There were only a few people sitting around enjoying an early meal before the lunch rush, and a server quickly walked up to greet them. 

“We saw that there was an ad for an eating competition here?” Keiji held up his phone, “We’d like to enter it, please.” 

The girl, Saito, her name tag read, nodded and pulled two menus from under the table, leading them towards a table for two, “You’re aware that it’s 6 bowls for 1 person, right?” 

“Yes.” 

She smiled and left them to deliberate over the choices. 

Keiji scanned through the menu but nothing caught his eyes, so he just sat back and observed Atsumu. The blond had a serious expression on his face that was normally reserved for volleyball - he must really care about food - and the hair flopping across his face reminded Keiji even more of a limp noodle when they were in a noodle restaurant. 

“Ya good, Keiji-kun?” Atsumu asked, tossing his menu on top of the other. Keiji nodded and signalled the waitress from before over. 

He let Atsumu rattle off his order first, only half-paying attention until the girl turned to him. 

“What he just said but hold the spice.” 

Atsumu started whining as soon as the girl left, “That’s just plain lazy! What if I ordered, like, raw spinach or something?!” 

Keiji shrugged in response, “I’ll eat anything as long as it’s edible, really.” 

“I bet you even eat yer vegetables like a good boy.” 

Was that meant to be an insult? Keiji raised an eyebrow, “I was under the impression that vegetables help keep a balanced diet required to keep an athlete’s body in peak condition.” 

“Lies,” he said immediately, “They’re feedin’ you city boys bullshit. Haha did you get that? Feedin-” 

“Yes, I got it,” Keiji rolled his eyes, slouching in his seat, “What do you live off of, then? Rice?” 

“Me? Nah, but  _ ‘Samu, _ man lemme tell ya about Osamu. He could probably wax fuckin’ poetic about how eat grain of rice is the absolute shit, needs to hold a perfect form and not mesh with the others, yet not stick out on its own, some shit like that.” 

He frowned, “Is there something wrong with being passionate for rice?” 

“Not really, but it’s real fuckin’ lame when it’s coming out of his mouth.” 

Keiji snorted at that, “And it’s not out of yours?” 

Atsumu looked like Keiji had just spat on him, “‘Scuse you! I’m ten- no, twenty time better than that scrub!” 

“Of course you are.” 

“Don’t say it like that!”  “Like what?” 

“All- all condescending, an- and-” 

Their bickering was cut off by the waitress, who arrived with four bowls balanced on a tray. 

“Just to start off, I’ll bring them out as you finish. You have two hours until you’re forced to forfeit. Oh, and you can’t eat any of the other’s food, good luck!” she winked.

“Thank you, Saito-san,” Keiji said, picking up a pair of chopsticks, “Itadakimasu.” 

Atsumu repeated the gesture and eagerly dug in, “Shit- that’s good. Or maybe I’m just starving. Are ya plannin’ on doing conditioning over the summer, or?” 

“Well, our coach is on a short vacation right now and he’ll be back next week. I imagine that’ll be the first thing we do,” Keiji winced as Atsumu slurped loudly, droplets of soup flying everywhere. He gathered a few leaves and a piece of meat and stuck them into his mouth, followed by a large wad of noodles. 

“Will I get kicked out?” 

Keiji thought it over and hummed, bringing the bowl up to sip at the soup, “I’m not sure. Coach might wait and see how you interact with the team until he comes to a decision.” 

Atsumu chuckled, “The way you put it seems like I’m joinin’ yer team.” 

“Isn’t that basically what you’re doing? For this summer, at least, since your team  _ exiled _ you.”

_ “Exiled?! _ Don’t go pullin’ fancy English terms on me now, ‘m not exiled! I’m just takin’ a short break!” 

“ _ Exile- the state of being banned from one’s native country, _ ” Keiji recited, “Close enough, don’t you think?” 

He finished off the first bowl and moved to the next one while Atsumu pouted. 

With the lull in conversation, the next bowl was devoured quicker than the first and Atsumu raced to catch up. The waitress swung by, collecting their empty bowls and replacing them with fresh noodles. 

“Thank you. Atsumu, when are you returning to Hyogo, again?” 

“I think I got here on the 17th, so…” Atsumu did some quick math on his fingers, “Think I’ll be returning on the 24th or the 25th.” 

He nodded. “How many things are left on your list?” 

“My list? Oh, right! Well this is number… 14, I think? Wait no, 15, yeah. I had 43 originally, 41 when I met ya, but then I cut some stuff out and replaced some others,” the blond’s brow furrowed in concentration as he ran the numbers. Keiji let out an amused huff. Atsumu scowled at the sound and his head snapped up, “Anyways! Don’t worry yer pretty little head, Keiji-kun. You’ve got plenty of time left with Atsumu-san.” 

“Atsumu-san?” Keiji’s lips quirked up. 

“That’s m’name don’t wear it out,” he grinned. 

Keiji stirred around the last stray noodles in the soup and stared at the liquid, “If I just left it here I’d be quite content.” 

“Not given’ up, are ya?! C’mon you can do better than that,” Atsumu tsked, “Never though you’d be so w e a k.” 

He glared at the dumb blond, “I never said I was full.” 

Atsumu’s grin returned, smug and challenging, “Betcha I can finish 6 faster than you can?” 

It was such a stupid challenge. 

“You’re on.” 

.

In the end, two high school students managed to single handedly work their way through 6 bowls of ramen in 1 hour and 14 minutes, feeling quite stuffed afterwards. 

The restaurant owners were not pleased. 

(Keiji left some money anyways because he felt bad.) 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's another short one. Atsumu at the end trying to calculate how much stuff he has left is literally me trying to figure out which days land on what back in 2013 lol. I've come to the conclusion when Akaashi's kind of good then Atsumu veers toward Bokuto and then I try and get Atsumu back on track but then Akaashi turns to Sakusa.
> 
> Maybe I should just write bokuaka sakuatsu fics lol.
> 
> Liked it, hated it, let me know, thanks :)


	10. Match

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keiji just wants to hang out with his best friend (hint: it's not Atsumu).

“Oi,” Atsumu prodded at his shoulder, shoving his phone into Keiji’s vision, “There’s a dude askin’ for ya.” 

“A dude?” he croaked, yawning loudly. 

“Yup. Dunno who, but it’s a Tokyo number.” 

“Just hang up. Probably a spam number,” he mumbled, half-asleep already as he rolled over. “I used your phone to sign up for that coupon thing.” 

“AGHAAASHI! That’s no way to treat your best friend!” Bokuto Koutarou yelled. Ah. Keiji was suddenly a lot more awake, sitting up and reaching out for the phone. Atsumu scowled at him. 

“Atsumu give me the phone.” 

The blond rolled his eyes and turned the speaker on. Keiji closed his eyes and breathed in through his nose. 

He breathed out, “Bokuto-san. Why’re you calling me so early?” 

“And how didja get my number?” Atsumu pitched in. 

“One, it’s like 11 already, Akaashi, and two, I asked one of my teammates, Iizuna, he’s from Itachiyama did you know?! His tosses are amazing!! Not as good as yours, Akaashi, but- sorry I’m getting off topic, yeah so I asked him and he asked one of his kouhai, Komori-kun, I think? And Komori-kun got the numbers of everyone who went to the All-Japan Youth Camp last year, and yeah!” 

Keiji couldn’t help the slight smile that only grew as Bokuto blabbered on.

“Why are you calling?” 

“Oh, just checking in! You guys are starting practice soon, right?”

“Yes, we did two days ago, actually.”

“Awesome! Oh yeah I just remembered, I’m going to be in Tokyo tomorrow, do you want to hang out?” 

Keiji glanced towards Atsumu, who had a very (scarily) supportive grin on his face.

“Yes, I’d love that,” he confirmed, “What time are you free?”

“The whole day! Man, I can’t wait to see you, Akaashi!”

“Same here.” 

“I have to go now, I’ll meet you at the one conbini near the dogs, alright? See you!” 

He was left with a wide smile at the prospect of seeing Bokuto tomorrow. Should he dress up? No, that would be trying too hard, besides, this was Bokuto, still his best friend. Maybe bring him a gift? 

Keiji stared at the phone for a few more moments before Atsumu withdrew his hand. He looked up warily. 

“Are you sure you’re alright with this?” 

“Yeah, yeah, go on yer little date, Keiji-kun!” the blond’s smile became sly, “‘Sides, I’ve always wanted to play matchmaker.” 

He straightened, “You will do no such thing,” Keiji said immediately, a frown quickly taking place on his lips.

“You can’t stop me!” 

“No, but I can try to the best of my abilities!” 

.

16.

“Makeovers,” Atsumu said as soon as their dishes were washed and put away. Keiji sent him a questioning look and he clarified, “That’s what I want to do today.” 

He eyed Atsumu’s hair with disdain, “What sort?” 

“I see ya glarin’ at my hair, I ain’t doing nothing ‘bout it!” the blOndE huffed, “I’m talkin’ like… what’re those things? The face mask stuff.” 

“We’re broke. I highly doubt we have the funds to be purchasing face masks for a one time thing,” Keiji frowned, “The most we have is like… lotion and moisturizers.” 

“Then we’ll have cheeks as soft as snow, I don’t fuckin’ care,” he replied, “I just want a shitty makeover.” 

Keiji rolled his eyes, “I’ll see what I can do.” 

After a rummage through the bathroom drawers and a slight snoop through his mother’s, Keiji’s search came up with a few things: lotions and moisturizers, obviously, some sort of cleansing liquid for the face, a few acne-removal creams, and a set of nail polish a family friend had gifted him at the ripe old age of 2.

He laid it all across his bedroom floor and took a seat across from Atsumu, who had changed into his pajamas and was sitting cross legged. 

“You should probably begin by washing your face,” Keiji suggested, he had already done so after his scavenge.

“Oh yeah,” Atsumu scrambled up ungracefully and ran towards the bathroom. He returned shortly after, face still dripping and nearly slamming the door shut behind him. 

Between the two of them, the setters managed to apply the weird cleansing thing to their faces, followed by moisturizer.

(“Are we s’pose to layer this stuff on??”

“Does it look like I know?”) 

Keiji discovered that there was actually a line of acne running along Atsumu’s hairline, covered by his bangs. 

(“Why don’t you just wash your face?” 

“I do! S’not my fault that it’s just naturally oily!”) 

He vigorously rubbed lotion into every crevice of his hands, only to have to wash it all out while trying to clean up the messy paint job Atsumu gave him. Keiji could and would brag that his hands were much steadier while applying the polish, and Atsumu’s nails didn’t look like they had accidentally been dragged through clumpy paint. 

(“Yer fault! All yer fault, why the fuck were ya moving so much?! And that polish is like 10 years expired! Not my fault that it’s clumpy!”

“If it was so expired then why are yours so smooth?!”)

Afterwards, they laid on the floor side by side in silence, waiting for the other to crack and do something.

Atsumu was the first to break, “Think I put too much of that cool stuff on, my face feels real heavy.” 

Keiji nodded, “Then go wash it off.” 

“But that ruins the whole point, doesn’t it? Aren’tcha s’pose to like let it bake or something? Let it sink in?” 

“Baking is for makeup, not more moisturizer.” 

“Makeup, makeover, same thing.” 

“They’re really not.” 

The setters fell into silence once more. Keiji closed his eyes and focused on the steadily warming floor underneath him and the slight draft blowing in from his open window. There was a slight humming, from the kitchen, maybe? Atsumu shifted beside him. 

“Hey d’you think you could get the rest of the team to paint their nails?” 

“Probably. But Coach doesn’t normally allow us to, Bokuto-san and Konoha-san tried once in their second year.” 

“Cool,” Keiji could feel the rising grin on Atsumu’s face, “Good thing he’s not there then, is it?” 

He snorted and sat up, pushing himself off the floor, “Come on. I highly doubt you’ll remember to wash it off tomorrow morning.” 

“Hey! Why d’you think so low of me, Keiji-kun??”

* * *

“Stop following me,” Keiji groaned, bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. 

17.

“I told ya I wanted to be a matchmaker! ‘Sides, I helped ya pick out yer outfit, did that makeover thing and everything! Why shouldn’t I be able to enjoy the fruits of’ my labor?!” Atsumu protested, stubbornly trailing a few paces behind Keiji. 

“Yes, but this sounds an awful lot like  _ stalking, _ Atsumu-kun.” 

“Hey, what happened to ‘Atsumu-san’??” 

Keiji glared at him, but the blond just grinned back, “This’ll be the best date you’ve ever been on Keiji-kun, just you wait!”

He couldn’t help but share Atsumu’s enthusiasm, allowing a secret smile to slip through. It had been at least two months since he last saw Bokuto in person.

“This is where we’ll part ways,” Atsumu said solemnly. 

“Thank goodness,” he muttered. 

“Oi! No!” the blond’s calm cool collected exterior was cracked, “I was s’pose to go on and say ‘I’ll see ya on the other side. I wish you the best of luck.’” 

“There, you’ve said it. Now shoo.” 

Atsumu ran off and Keiji could only hope he wouldn’t see the blond mop popping up during the day. He arrived at their planned meeting place and stood outside, pulling out his phone to check if Bokuto had messaged him or not. 

He put his phone away upon remembering that the other had blocked him. 

Keiji glared at Atsumu, who was standing in the electronics store across the street, very obviously gave him a thumbs up. 

A pair of hands slid over his face and he jumped. 

“Guess who?!” 

Oh. Keiji smiled, “Bokuto-san. It’s been a while.” 

“Yeah!” Bokuto stepped back and offered Keiji a popsicle, ripping open his own to suck on, “I bought some popsicles! It’s so hot here!” 

“It isn’t in Fukushima?”

“I mean, we’re further up north! Hey, is the gym open today?” 

Keiji turned to him with a bemused look, “Aren’t you in a gym everyday?” 

“Yeah, but I want to hit some of your tosses, come on, Akaashi!” Bokuto whined, unintentionally pulling out slight puppy dog eyes. 

Keiji smiled, “I have no objections. Besides, I’m the captain now, remember? I have the key to the gym.” 

Bokuto laughed, loud and cheerful, “What are you talking about, Akaashi? You had the key even when you  _ weren’t  _ the captain.” 

He laughed along. 

.

Keiji pretended not to notice the setter that darted onboard the bus after him and Bokuto, instead paying attention to the spiker’s in depth thoughts about each and every player of the Tamaden Elephants.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he slipped it out while Bokuto was singing praises about their setter, Iizuna. 

Bratsumu

_ Its been like what 3 months since uve seen him and the one time u do u just go and play vb _

_ Talk abt lame _

Sent 11:52

He lifted his head to glare at Atsumu, who was very obviously staring at the two of them. Keiji quickly typed out a response and pointedly silenced it. 

Me

_ Who are you to lecture me about playing too much volleyball? _

Sent 11:53

Keiji tugged on Bokuto’s arm to guide them off of the bus at the last moment, sticking his tongue out at Atsumu’s sour expression, having tried to get off a moment too late. 

“Woah! It’s been forever since I’ve been here!” Bokuto exclaimed, jumping ahead of Keiji, “Do people still skip behind the gyms?? I barely recognize the place!” 

“It looks exactly the same,” Keiji said, “And yes, though why you know that still concerns me.” 

“Don’t point fingers, Akaashi! How do you know about it, huh?!” 

He raised an amused eyebrow, “I was the one who caught you behind there.” 

Bokuto laughed again, “Yeah! And why were you there, hmm?” 

“It was my free block. However… it was  _ your _ maths class.” 

“It’s not my fault the numbers hate me!” he retorted, “It’s just a bunch of mumbo jumbo, I swear those quadratic equations will come back to haunt me. Look- it’s the gym!” 

Bokuto bounded over and hovered around Keiji excitedly, urging him to unlock the doors. He held open the door for the other to enter first, which he leapt through with great gusto. 

“Hey hey hey! It is GREAT to be home!” he yelled into the empty gym. The sound echoed and Keiji laughed loudly, suddenly reminiscent of the late night practices the two would hold, often ending with Keiji having to physically push Bokuto toward the locker room.

Speaking of, a flash of gold in the corner of his eyes should’ve been a warning before he was shoved forward with the strength of the best setter in the nation, straight towards an unsuspecting spiker. 

In slow motion, Keiji’s arms flew forward as the door slammed shut behind him. Bokuto’s back was broad as he twisted around, and Keiji was in the middle of cursing Atsumu with the power of a thousand suns.

“Oh- oof! Akaashi- you alright?” Bokuto’s arm circled around his torso as Keiji’s face went from 0 to 100. (Embarrassment? Anger? Who knows?)

He cleared his throat, “Y-yes. Sorry about that, Bokuto-san. I must’ve… must’ve lost my balance.” 

“You should be more careful,” Bokuto let go once he was on his feet again and turned away, “Let’s string up the net!” 

Keiji glared at the door one last time where muffled snickers were bleeding through before following after the spike. 

.

“Hey hey! Akaashi you’re the best!” Bokuto cheered, “I loved hitting your tosses again! I’ll see you after the training camp, okay? Kuroo said he would bring Kenma with him when he wants to meet up!” 

Keiji raised a hand, the other tucked in his pocket, “Of course, Bokuto-san. Take care?” 

He watched the other wave one last time and watched until the spiker was just a dot of grey among the crowd. 

His smile dropped with his hand as soon as he felt somebody step up beside him. 

“You just  _ had _ to follow us into the restaurant,” Keiji scowled, “We were doing perfectly fine.” 

“What’re ya talkin’ about?! All ya did was play volleyball! You an’ Bokkun needed that push and I gave it,” Atsumu stated confidently. 

He scrunched up his nose, “ _ Bokkun? _ ” 

“Yeah. A nickname, ya like it?” 

“No, and you nearly made the waitress  _ cry. _ ” 

“All’s fair in love and war!” 

“Civilians aren’t meant to be caught in the crossfire!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> coolio gotta go bye i made a twitter find me at mandelineh pls i need friends
> 
> liked it hated it lemme know thanks


	11. Beauty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keiji helps Atsumu become 'beautiful.'

Coach was in the gym talking to Suzumeda, their manager who took over after her older sister graduated, when the setters arrived for morning practice. 

Keiji froze in the door and Atsumu elbowed him in the side, “Ey, don’t do that, I almost cuffed ya in the head, oh-”

They probably looked like a pair of guilty dogs, standing in the doorway staring at the coach with wide eyes.

“Er, Yamiji-s-” 

He held up a hand and strode over, “It’s alright, Akaashi. Suzumeda already explained to me the situation. It’s nice to meet you, Miya.” 

Atsumu quickly dropped into a slight bow, “Likewise, Coach.” 

“It seems like he’s not causing any trouble during our practices so it’s fine if he keeps coming, _as long as it stays that way,_ ” his voice dipped at the end and Miya visibly gulped. Coach relaxed and gave him a tilt of the head before heading back towards Suzumeda to work on their conditioning schedule. 

“Woah he’s scary,” Atsumu muttered, quickly changing into his shoes. Keiji picked up his pair and placed them near the bleachers. 

“He’s generally easy-going. Likes to adapt,” he explained, “Apparently he wasn’t always that way, but he’s softened since Bokuto-san came.”

Atsumu’s lips quirked up, “I imagine it’ll be hard to hate someone as charismatic as Bokkun.” 

The little nickname was stupid. 

.

Keiji couldn’t help but be hyper aware of Atsumu’s presence as the blond flitted around the court helping their pinch servers with the float serve that they were struggling with, and of the Coach’s steady gaze as he switched between watching Atsumu and Keiji himself. 

He glanced across the gym again and nearly missed the serve that was targeted towards him, since he was on the very corner of the court.

The ball collided with his forearms and try as he might to direct it, it changed direction at the last minute and went rocketing off to the side. 

He heard Yui’s victorious whoops and Atsumu’s cheers beside him. 

“Nice serve, Yui! Keiji-kun…” Atsumu lifted his head to meet his gaze, a smug grin on his face, “Those receives could some work.” 

Keiji scowled and fought the urge to stick out his tongue childishly. Being around Atsumu tended to do that. 

“That was great, Yui-kun,” he said instead, smiling at his kouhai, who beamed brightly back. His face was pink from both exertion and pride. 

A split second later his hands flew up to bump the spike serve that hurtled down towards him. Keiji actually stuck his tongue out at that one. 

Oh no he was lowering himself to Atsumu’s level. 

.

Takeyuki watched practice roll out in front of him with a slight smile on his face. He gave a few tips to Onaga before turning to the entire team, calling them to attention and dismissing them until the afternoon. 

“Remember not to eat too much, we’re doing conditioning later.” 

As they cleaned up the gym and slowly rolled out of the doors, Takeyuki glanced towards their setter. 

Akaashi was arguing with Miya as they slipped off their shoes. 

Good, it was good for Akaashi to act more like his age every now and then.

.

19.

“Kinda wanna pluck my eyebrows,” Atsumu squinted at his crinkled list. The paper was getting yellower as the days passed, creases more apparent and new stains getting added to the collection. 

“Goodness knows you need it.” 

“Shaddap Keiji-kun, it’s not like yers are non-existent either,” Atsumu glared (enviously) at his forehead. 

Keiji raised an aforementioned eyebrow. His were thick, yes, but at least the natural shape was pleasant and weren’t Miya-level thick. 

“Damn it. Why the fuck were you _blessed_ and I’m here with- with caterpillars,” Atsumu groaned, sprawling himself across the kotatsu. It seemed to be his favorite place in the entire apartment.

“I never pegged you for one to be self conscious,” he paused, “Besides, it could be worse.” 

“Worse?” Atsumu sat up and turned to Keiji with a pitiful expression on his face. 

“Komori.” 

He winced and nodded understandingly, “Yeah… well at least ‘Mori-kun’s nice. Unlike _someone._ ” 

Keiji sighed, “I’m sure you’ll be alright, Atsumu-kun,” he said sarcastically, voice saccharine sweet, “Your fans admire you for your skills, not your appearance.” 

His scowl deepened, “That’s even worse! Fuck you, Keiji!” 

“Whatever. There are tweezers on the top shelf behind the mirror.” 

Atsumu got to his feet ambled away, presumably to go pluck his eyebrows. A loud ‘OW’ sounded followed by a string of curses. 

“How’d it go?” he called behind him, more occupied with his book than actually concerned. 

“HURTS LIKE A BITCH!” he yelled back. 

“Quiet down, our neighbors are trying to sleep.” 

Atsumu hobbled out of the bathroom, collapsing next to Keiji and clutching the tweezers dramatically. 

“When they said ‘beauty is pain’ I didn’t think they meant it.” 

Keiji snorted and rolled his eyes. 

“Fuck you! Yer already naturally pretty!” 

Was that meant to be a compliment? If not, he’ll take it as a compliment anyways. Keiji tuned out Atsumu’s bitching and whining - a talent, really - to pay attention to how the typical feminist protagonist with the whole “I don’t kneed no man” personality was pining after the hot stud. Typical.

A tweezer nearly stabbed him in the eye as a hand was thrust in his face. 

“Do my eyebrows for me.” 

“You’re going to whine about how much it hurts the whole time.” 

“No I won’t! Cross my heart, all that shit,” Atsumu insisted impatiently. Keiji huffed a laugh and accepted the tweezers, bookmarking his page and setting it on the table. He shifted around so that he was facing Atsumu and put a hand on his face, the other resting on top of his head. 

“A single word out of you and you’ll be left with uneven eyebrows,” he warned. 

Atsumu chuckled, “Jokes on you they’re already uneven.” 

His laugh cut off as soon as Keiji got to work, plucking the stray hairs out first. 

True to his word, the setter didn’t peep a word all throughout the process, squirming and wincing instead while Keiji worked quickly and efficiently.

Keiji didn’t trust himself not to screw it up any more by cutting down his eyebrows, so he just worked on trimming them and refining the shape. The skin around the area was red and growing steadily more sensitive, if the more noticeable winces were any indication. 

“Done,” he announced, tossing the tweezers aside and stretching out his hand. He rolled his wrist while Atsumu groaned, massaging his forehead with his hands. 

The blond exhaled loudly, “What the fuck. I’m never doing that again.” 

.

“Wow, your eyebrows look amazing, Atsumu-san!” Yui exclaimed the next day. 

Atsumu’s chest puffed up and he preened under the praise, “Ya think so? Thanks!” 

Keiji rolled his eyes. A night full of pain, erased just like that.

Oh, what he would give to be that simple minded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh no im in a rush again pls find me on twt @mandelineh and talk to me im sorry this is so short why tf does hulu have mha but only in dub liked it hated it lemme know thanks


	12. Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keiji and Atsumu enjoy the night sky and compete.

“Hey Atsumu?” Keiji lifted up a corner of the kotatsu to see Atsumu curled up underneath, spinning a ball on his side. 

“Yeah?” he looked up and scooted out, blond strands of hair flying with the friction from the futon, “Sup?” 

“There’s going to be a training camp next week for the Fukurodani Academy Group, from the 10th to the 18th. It’s a bit longer than usual and I want to know how we’re going to figure out what we’re going to do.” 

“Yer so organized it makes me feel like a mess,” Atsumu commented. _Because you are,_ Keiji wanted to say. “Who’s hostin’? Fukurodani?”

“Well, every year we rotate for our week-long one, with the exception of Karasuno since they’re in Miyagi. Last year was Shinzen High, and this year, yes, Fukurodani is hosting.” 

Atsumu grinned, sudden and sharp, “Well, up for some sneakin’ out, Keiji-kun?” 

He rolled his eyes and snorted, “Not particularly, no. However, if an honorary member of the Fukurodani VBC happened to join us for individual practice every now and then, I’m sure the coaches could turn a blind eye. Coach Yamiji likes you enough to let you stay, anyways.” 

“Cool. Guess we could check off more of the indoor ones, then. Speaking of, ya up for a midnight rendezvous, Keiji-kun?” 

“A rendezvous implies we’re meeting up at a specific time and place. I’ve been with you constantly for the past 9 days.”

“Shush. Wanna go on a midnight adventure, then?”

“If it’s at midnight then wouldn’t we be doing two things in one day?”

“Shaddap, ya wanna go or not??”

.

“We’re nearly out of Tokyo,” Keiji noted, watching lights and buildings flash by, the scenery all becoming a blur.

“Yup,” Atsumu popped the ‘p’, “You ever been outside?” 

Now that he mentioned it… “Yes, but that was only for training camps.” 

“So _boring,_ ” Atsumu drawled, “You oughta get out more often.” 

“I get out plenty.” 

20.

“We’re going stargazin’ today. Well technically on the list it’s ‘map the stars’ but yer Coach’s conditioning is literal hell and I don’t want to do any of that fancy shit t’day.”

Interesting, Keiji leaned back against the hard bench and stared out the plastic screen. The further away from the city they got, the more stars revealed themselves. Right now, they were merely a smattering of faded freckles across a vast, clear blue skin.

Not a cloud in sight, it was a nice day to go stargazing. 

“We must be going pretty far out if you want to look at stars,” Keiji remarked. Atsumu hummed in confirmation. 

“Just a couple o’ kilos over. Kinda miss the Hyogo skies, could practically see the universe in ‘em. Too many to count, betcha city boys never get that.” 

“No, we don’t.” 

.

The two sat on an empty hill, Tokyo reduced to just a line of light in the distance. Keiji laid back and stared up.

They were truly breathtaking, he could start staring and never stop. Automatically, his eyes sought out the North Star, or Polaris. From there, he mapped out the rest of Ursa Minor.

Each dot, a burning ball, bright as it breaching kilos and kilos of untouched space, all to reach this very hill, just to be seen by his own eyes. 

He looked to the side and- oh, look at that.

“It’s new moon today,” Keiji breathed, “I hadn’t even realized.” 

“Yeah,” Atsumu hummed, voice uncharacteristically soft, “I had this planned for a while, actually.”

As much attention as a full moon garnered, there was a sort of charm to the new moon. It seemed- dark, blank, maybe? Without the constant presence of the moon. It was neat, the way only a sliver of the rock showed around the darkness. A halo, a crown, maybe. 

Most of all, just for today, the moon shied away from the spotlight, leaving space for the stars to shine.

* * *

Keiji gasped for breath as he sprinted across the field, crouching down to tap the center line before launching up again, returning to the point where Coach Yamiji stood observing their suicides. Atsumu was just barely two steps ahead of him, and _damn_ that piss blond head if he thought that he would outrun Keiji.

He had chased after a beefy ace for two years straight, who did Atsumu think he was? 

Atsumu flashed a smirk in his direction as Keiji tapped the line at Coach’s feet, spinning and ripping through the air to rip the blond a new one. 

Anahori and Onaga both touched the line as Keiji reached the 18 yard, Atsumu still maintaining that two step gap between them. Turf was flying all over the place as 12 players ran as if their lives depended on it, a manager and a coach stepping from side to side to avoid the onslaught of rubber.

This smell was sickening, Keiji decided, and not because he was ready to keel over and vomit, but because every single interaction with this smell in the future would be related to the one incident where Miya Atsumu had both the time and the audacity to _look so fucking smug_ at the end line as he turned around. 

He was pushed with a renewed vigor as the gap slowly stretched itself, two steps, three, a meter- damn it.

The field was 120 yards and it took about 2-3 minutes for a highschool athlete to cross, and Keiji was fairly sure he did not take in a single breath in the entire 120 yards. 

He vaulted towards the end line, diving forward to tap the white “grass,” before tumbling over his back and rolling twice to rest on his back.

“Fuck-” Atsumu panted, still upright but hunched over. That didn’t last for long, he quickly teetered to the side and collapsed out of exhaustion, “You.” 

Keiji couldn’t find the energy to respond, instead focusing on what remained of his life and using it to suck in lungfuls of air, ignoring the way his heart pounded in his ears every time he so much as existed. 

“Good job, Akaashi. Miya,” Coach praised, “You guys did better than yesterday.” 

Ah, yes, yesterday. Where Atsumu had beaten Keiji and promptly bent over and puked. 

Not a pleasant day. 

When Keiji felt somewhat functioning and his head didn’t feel like self imploding every time he tried to sit up, he blindly patted around the ground surrounding him before Suzumeda took pity on him and pushed a bottle into his hand. 

He twisted the lid and squirted a stream of water into his mouth, nearly spilling half of it over his face. She also leaned down and placed a towel doused in cool water over the top half of his face.

Keiji waved around until his hand found purchase and patted Suzumeda’s knee in thanks.

“Fluke,” was the word Atsumu managed after several minutes of silence, in which Anahori joined the two, looking like he was about to melt from the combination of the stupid summer sun, the sickening suicide runs, and the sheer sonic level of speed the two setters ran at. 

Suzumeda had commented that it got her blood pumping just watching them.

“Are you talking about your win yesterday? Because if you are then I must agree with you,” Keiji taunted. He felt Atsumu whip a towel into his stomach and his hand twitched to do the same thing back at him. 

“Hell nah. You know what I meant and you believe it too,” Atsumu insisted, “Who the fuck _dives_ like that? No wonder yer receives are so shitty.” 

“Like you could do better,” he shot back. Stupid thing to say, because Atsumu could and would most certainly do better than Keiji.

Onaga joined them and laid down next to Keiji.

21.

“This is the perfect opportunity to do one of the things on my list. Empty a vending machine. Yo, Coach?” Atsumu raised his voice, “C’n I go buy a shit ton of drinks from one o’ the vending machines?” 

Keiji lifted up his towel to see Coach shrug, “It’s your money. Just be back in 10, I expect the rest of the team will be done by then.”

Atsumu jumped to his feet, “C’mon Keiji-kun. Up and attem, we gotta go to the locker rooms and get some money.” 

“That’s going to be a lot of money,” he groaned, taking Atsumu’s offered hand and letting the blond pull him to his feet. 

After a quick trip and pooling together whatever pocket change Atsumu, Keiji, and Suzumeda had brought with them to practice, the three didn’t manage to completely empty a vending machine, but it was a close call. 

They ended up leaving a row of iced coffee and another of apple juice behind, but in their arms gathered dozens of sports drinks of various brands and flavours, a few cans of iced tea, and some weird seltzer water Atsumu insisted that he wanted to try.

Thank goodness all of it was cool.

The three returned to cheers and cries like war heroes upon presenting their goods. A majority of the drinks were left unopened and thrown into a cooler with the rest of their water bottles. 

Keiji cracked open a can of iced tea and sipped on it, prodding his tongue around his mouth to get rid of the sticky sweetness. 

“I think that was an even bigger waste of money than that one train ride.” 

“Oh can it, Scrooge! Look how happy Ryota-kun looks!” Atsumu pointed the spiker out, who froze upon hearing his name called.

Keiji scanned over the rest of the team. They really did look happy despite the hellish drills that they had ran through that afternoon. He smiled and met Atsumu’s demanding eyes. 

“Alright, then maybe it’s the _second_ most wasteful. The train ride can take first,” he amended. The blond snorted and turned away, tipping his head back to gulp down the blue sports drink clutched in his hand.

* * *

22.

“Hey we’re doing couples yoga,” Atsumu said, tossing his towel at Keiji as soon as the latter got out of the shower. 

He could only imagine how disastrous it would go. 

“And I wanna be the top.” 

Even worse. 

Nevertheless, Keiji dug a mat out of one of their closets and laid it out in place of the kotatsu, which was pushed to the side. 

Atsumu shoved a phone in his face, a web page filled with various poses he wanted to try. He pointed to an image at the top of the page, “I wanna try [ this ](https://img.huffingtonpost.com/asset/5cd84b9521000058007e8884.jpeg?ops=scalefit_720_noupscale) one.” 

He squinted, “Can you do a backbend?” 

The blond frowned, “Hell yeah. Why, you doubtin’ me?” 

No, never. 

Well, as it turns out, Atsumu could _not,_ in fact, do a backbend. What he _could_ do, was a handstand, so Keiji was in downward dog watching amusedly while Atsumu flailed around, his entire weight supported by his arms as he attempted to curve his back. 

Atsumu toppled precariously and Keiji scrambled to get out of the way as soon as he saw what was coming. 

“OOF-” a heel collided painfully with his back. He flattened onto the ground as the rest of the blond came crashing down. “Ow. No, you are no longer qualified for this position. You have been terminated.” 

“Stop bein’ so dramatic,” Atsumu huffed, “Let’s try again!”

“Hell no, we’re switching if you want to go through with this at all,” he replied, glaring at the blond. He squirmed for a few moments before giving in.

Attempt #2, Atsumu got into downward dog while Keiji cautiously hefted himself into a handstand, head facing away from the other. He waited until he was in no danger of teetering and slowly lowered his legs until a foot met Atsumu’s back. 

“Don’t kick me,” he warned. 

“Oh- like you did to me?” Keiji shot back, gritting his teeth as he slowly shifted back until both his feet were rested on Atsumu’s lower back. 

“Hell yeah. We did it bitch,” Atsumu exclaimed. Keiji held it for a moment before rolling to the side and falling, pulse quickened. Who knew yoga would be so straining? “Next! [ Here ](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/6b/33/95/6b3395e0766fd3da9ab6d81891212b08.jpg).” 

Atsumu laid on his back and reached for Keiji. He clasped their hands together. “How do we do this?” Keiji asked cautiously. He was about to be lifted into the air and he wasn’t sure how much he could trust that Atsumu wasn’t about to just let him fall. 

He straightened his arms so that they were locked in place, and Keiji was leaning over him, feet still firmly planted on the ground. Atsumu bent his leg and pressed his hip, quickly bringing up his other so that Keiji wouldn’t be unbalanced. 

“Goin’ up,” Atsumu announced before pushing his legs straight and Keiji’s eyes went wide as his feet suddenly slipped and his elbows gave in. “Oi. Arms straight. Yer legs, too.” 

He slowly lifted himself up and straightened his back and legs so that he formed a line across his back. 

“This is terrifying,” he stated. Atsumu laughed at him. 

“You should see yer face right now. Looks like yer about to piss yerself,” he chuckled. Keiji glared at him. “Hold up. Yer kinda slipping, let me just-” 

He adjusted his foot and pressed _hard_ on his dick. Keiji yelped and flinched away, jolting both of them and quickly falling. 

“FUCK YOU!” he hissed, rolling off of Atsumu and cupping his crotch. God fucking _damn it_ did that hurt. 

“Oh shit- sorry, sorry, sorry,” Atsumu blabbered, wincing as he tried to get up, “Oh fuck I did _not_ mean to do that. But ya gotta admit that was kinda funny-” 

“Oh, I wasn’t aware you wanted me to return to favor,” Keiji glared at him, “I’d be happy to oblige." 

The blond paled and quickly scooted out of Keiji’s range with a quick apology. 

“We’re done here,” he announced as soon as the pain had subsided, he got up and stalked off to his room, “You’re putting that away.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kinda ironic how in the last one atsumu said "beauty is pain" and that chap was titled 'beauty' and now this one was 'pain.' I always have smth i wanna put in the end notes but hahaha look at that? I've forgotten. If you want dumb hq shit then find me on twt @mandelineh you should watch howls moving castle attack on titan erased and the promised neverland those are just some good animes off the top of my head
> 
> liked it hated it lemme know thanks


	13. Cult

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keiji and Atsumu form a "cult."

Keiji awoke to the front door clicking, and hushed whispers as people shuffled around the genkan.

He yawned and debated going back to sleep for a moment. No, it would be rather rude to leave his parents hanging since he would be leaving in just a few hours. A quick glance to the clock showed the time to be a quarter past seven and he stepped off his bed, nearly tripping over Atsumu, who was still snoring peacefully. 

Keiji padded out to the living room where his parents were trying to quietly re-orient themselves with the apartment.

“Kaa-san,” he greeted, kissing his mother on the cheek. Keiji then walked over to his father and hugged him, “Tou-san. Welcome home.”

“Keiji,” his father ruffled his hair and let go, quickly disappearing into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. 

“Keiji,” his mother repeated, scanning over the slightly messier-than-usual apartment, “Atsumu’s here?” 

“Yes, still asleep.”

She hummed and sat down in front of the kotatsu, “I’m sorry if we woke you up.” 

“No, it’s fine. How was Hong Kong?” Keiji took a seat across from her as she launched into a retelling of a particularly rude tourist who insisted on her being Chinese.

His father joined them shortly after with a kettle and pitched in with small details every now and then.

Keiji took after him when it came to conversation, rather than dominating the topics and conversing freely, he tended to keep most thoughts to himself, opting to add little bits and pieces, sometimes accompanied with a side of sarcasm.

Mid-way through a story about the person who brought carrot sticks to crunch on at the theater, Keiji’s door was opened, drawing the trio’s attention. 

Atsumu slowly stumbled out, rubbing his eyes with his bedhead sticking every which way (somehow, it managed to be even worse than his usual limp bangs look).

“Akaashi-san’s,” he processed slowly, “Yer back.” 

“Atsumu-kun, I hope we didn’t wake you,” his mother said warmly. 

“Nah, Keiji-kun’s alarm started goin’ off. How’d yer trip go?”

Had it? Wasn’t it a Saturday? Oh, right- 

“Kaa-san. I have to pack for the training camp.” 

“Go on, Atsumu-kun, would you like some tea?” 

.

Keiji checked over the contents of his duffel one last time, a rolled up futon took up most of the space, toothbrush, toothpaste, some spare toothpaste, a week’s worth of clothes folded into neat squares, a charger- 

Something smacked into his face and fell into the open bag. He blinked and scowled, looking up to see Atsumu spinning around on his desk chair as he spun a volleyball on his finger. It was dizzying just watching him.

“That’s like, the thousandth time you’ve checked. Hurry up and leave already,” he urged. 

“It never hurts to double-check,” Keiji frowned, running over the list again. The volleyball was the next thing chucked at him. He walked over and flicked Atsumu in the forehead before stalking out of the room.

The entrance was clear of any suitcases and Keiji’s mother had gone out for groceries, by the lack of shoes. 

“Tou-san, we’re going to the training camp,” Keiji called and his father yelled back an affirmation. 

“Ya sure I can’t come with?” 

“You could. You wouldn’t be able to play, though.” 

He reached out and snagged Atsumu’s arm, forcing both of them to turn the corner. Dumb blond always went a block too far.

“Bench warmin’s no fun. I need to _play_ Keiji-kun!” 

“Then find a rec team to play with. Or go back to Hyogo.” 

Atsumu gave him the stink eye, “I see what yer doing. Don’t think you can get rid’o me that easy.” 

Keiji rolled his eyes, “One can wish.” 

Despite his best efforts, Atsumu still ended up trailing after him like a lost puppy all the way to school, and even changed in the locker room even though he was warned that he wouldn’t be able to play. 

“Just let him stay, Akaashi,” Coach sighed, “I don’t think he’s going to leave. You know you won’t be able to play, right, Miya? It’s _your_ practice time that you’re wasting.” 

Atsumu nodded, “Yessir. I c’n assure you this won’t be wastin’ my time.” 

As soon as Coach nodded and turned away, the blond added under his breath, “I can scope out the competition.” 

“Kageyama, you mean,” Keiji clarified, “You just want to terorize Kageyama-kun.” 

“I gave Tobio-kun _advice,_ my dear Keiji. Didn’tcha see all the progress he made during the Spring Tourney?? That was ‘cause of me!”

“Ah, yes, I’m also sure that was why we didn’t see them during the Interhigh last spring,” Keiji deadpanned. Atsumu’s scowl twisted. 

“Why the hell didn’t they make it, again? I wanted to crush Shouyou-kun and Tobio-kun, couldn’t have them one uppin’ me.” 

“Why? I’m sure you’re quite familiar with that,” Keiji turned away at the sound of a bus pulling into the parking lot, “That must be Nekoma, they’re the closest school. Come on, we have to go greet them.” 

He strode outside just as the other team began slowly filing out of the bus. Kozume rounded up the end, gaze trained on a device in his hands as he stepped off of the bus. His hair was even longer than the last time Keiji had seen it, nearly long enough to pile on his shoulders soon, and his roots were as dark and obvious as ever.

“Kozume-kun. It’s a pleasure to see you again.” 

Narrow cat-like eyes darted up towards him before flitting back towards his screen, where a small avatar with a green cloak bounced, awaiting instruction. 

“Drop the kun. And the Kozume,” he muttered. Yes, Keiji would not be doing that. An arm was slung around his shoulder and Atsumu pressed himself to his side. 

“Keiji-kun, who’s this?” Atsumu appraised Kenma, who slowly stepped away from the pair of them. 

“Stop trying to scare them,” he hissed, elbowing him in the side. Yamamoto glared at Atsumu from the side. Keiji cleared his throat, “Kozume, this is Atsumu. He’s Inarizaki’s captain and setter this year.” 

Kozume nodded and peeked up towards him through his bangs. 

“This is Nekoma’s setter, Kozume Kenma.”

“Nice ta meetcha, Kenma-kun. Nekoma was at Nationals last year, yeah?” he asked. Keiji knew for a _fact_ that Atsumu had followed the rest of Karasuno’s games obsessively after Inarizaki’s loss. 

Dumb bitch blond.

He nodded again and slipped away towards the rest of his team before Atsumu could continue to stand there and look down on him.

23.

“Hey, ya think we can get every setter from the camp together?” Atsumu whispered. His brow furrowed in confusion. 

“ _That’s_ on your list?” 

“Well, it’s ‘form a cult’ but I don’t think people’ll listen to me. _You,_ however…”

Keiji considered it for a moment, “Do coaches count?” 

.

The day passed quickly, a match after another, and Keiji could see Atsumu flitting in and out of the gyms, watching the games play out. With Karasuno on the opposite side of the net, Keiji could tell they were distracted by the way Kageyama’s eyes constantly flickered towards Fukurodani’s bench, where Atsumu was idly tossing a ball to himself, each set as perfect as the last. 

Keiji high fived Yui as they finally managed Bokuto’s sharp line shot that they were trying to replicate. 

That marked the end of their match, and they called “good game”s to the other team before retreating to their bench. Atsumu caught the ball and tossed Keiji a water bottle, which twisted and guzzled. 

He gave the dark haired setter an impatient look before tilting his head obviously towards the other side of the court.

Keiji huffed before throwing his bottle back. He quickly strode towards Karasuno.

“Kageyama-kun!” he called. The boy’s head snapped up and nodded. Ennoshita sent him a questioning look but decided it was nothing to be worried about. “Do you have any plans for individual practice later?” 

“Um, well-”

“Nope!” Hinata cut in and answered for Kageyama, “Yamayama-kun is free! Can I please come too, Akaashi-san? I want to try spiking as many people’s tosses as possible!” 

Keiji glanced behind him to see Atsumu nodding furiously, a fire in his eyes as he gave him a thumbs up. He turned back and smiled, “That’s fine, Hinata-kun. We’ll come find you after dinner.” 

“Awesome! Thank you, Akaashi-san!” 

Kageyama nodded stiffly and Keiji left, waving behind him. Atsumu was bouncing on the balls of his feet when he returned. 

“So, 3 down. Shuichi-kun, ya up for some individual practice later?” 

He nodded brightly, “Is it alright if Ryota-kun comes too? I wanted to try and sync with him!” 

“The more the merrier.” 

“Thank you, Atsumu-san!” 

The kid practically hero-worshiped Atsumu, though Keiji couldn’t see why. 

“So, who’s next?” 

Good question, Keiji accepted a clipboard Suzumeda handed him and called the whole team to attention, “We’re playing against Ubagawa next, and they excel in jump serves.”

Coach nodded beside him, “Yoshimi-kun, Namida-kun, you two wanted to work on your receives, correct? We’ll switch up the rotation this game. Ubagawa also favors the serve & block strategy, so Akaashi-san, try and thwart the blockers to the best of your ability.” 

He nodded. Ever since they had incorporated Atsumu’s little setting game into practice, he found that it had helped with getting under hard balls. Even if the receive was off he would be able to set it. 

Assuming they would be able to dig the serves, that is.

.

After getting Ubagawa’s setter on board, Yukawa, Keiji was struck with a thought. _Cult,_ _a system of religious veneration and devotion directed toward a particular figure or object._ What exactly were they worshiping?

When he voiced his question, Atsumu looked affronted, “Ain’t that obvious?” 

He really had no clue.

“...volleyball?” he tried. Atsumu tsked and shook his head in mock disappointment. 

“ _Me,_ Keiji-kun. It’s me.”

Keiji stared at him for a moment. “Right. Yukawa-kun? Sorry, we’re not meeting up anymore-” 

“Wait no, it was a joke- sorry sorry Yukawa-kun we still need ya don’t listen to Keiji he doesn’t have a clue what shit he’s spewing. Haha…”

.

Fukurodani had two gyms, and there were 2 games per gym, so only one was used for the training camp, but ever since Karasuno was added to the mix, there were an uneven amount of teams. The second gym was put into use for them to play around while waiting for their next match.

Keiji stood at the end line as balls flew around him, various spikers trying out their serves while their middle blockers worked on receives. 

“Come at me, Keiji-kun!” Atsumu called, readying himself. Keiji nodded and tossed the ball up- it was too low. He caught it and took another few steps back, “Anytime today, thanks.” 

He glared at Atsumu before trying again, throwing up a good high ball. His gaze remained trained on the ball as he ran, 1, 2, 3 steps and jumped. The ball hit a bit above his palms as he pushed it forward. Too weak. 

It barely made it to the net, clipping the top and immediately losing all momentum, dropping straight down. Atsumu threw himself forward into a diving receive, ball bouncing off of his fist as he threw his arm back. It bounced off the wall and rolled back towards the blond. 

“Focus on getting a good footing before jumping,” he advised, picking the ball up, “Yer throw was good but yer jump put ya off.” 

He nodded and glanced down towards the white line, had he overstepped last time? Every jump serve he tried always ended up worrying about a foot fault and therefore throwing his jump off balance. 

Atsumu breathed in and took six steps back- a spike serve. The serve was powerful- insanely so, and it flew at a deadly pace. 

Keiji took a quick step to the side- not quick enough, his arms were a centimeter away from the ball, which continued to rocket into the ground. Atsumu whooped while he scowled at his hands. 

“Out of bounds, Miya,” Coach called. His whoop was abruptly cut off. Was it really? Well, out or not, Keiji still had to move quicker if he wanted a chance to continue a game.

He picked up the ball, time to try again. 

Maybe he just just didn’t worry about the line, focus on hitting the ball first. Keiji took a few steps back and bounced the ball once. 

Tossing it up, he began his run up, 1, 2, 3 steps, jump. Putting all thoughts out of mind besides the ball, this serve was much better than the last, clearing the net and colliding with Atsumu’s arms with a smack. 

“Better than the last, needs more power, though,” Atsumu said, catching the ball after it shot straight up. 

Oh. As long as he was a good enough distance back, then he wouldn’t worry about stepping onto the court. If he could get more strength into his serves then he could probably serve from as far back as he wanted to. 

To gain power, he should work on his regular serves as a base. 

“Stop thinkin’ so much and worry ‘bout yer receive,” Atsumu warned before taking six steps back.

.

“Oi, it’s time,” Atsumu chirped, sliding down the bench to sit next to Keiji. Anahori looked up eagerly. 

“We just ate, if we start immediately then we’ll hurt ourselves,” Keiji replied. 

“Yeah, well the gyms’ll be full if we wait,” Atsumu whined, pulling at his sleeves, “Some o’ the Nekoma players are already in Gym 1! The beanpole and the captain!”

Lev was literally here just a minute ago, stuffing his face with rice. Keiji sighed and stood up, “Then you can go and set up the gym. I need to go talk to Yamamoto-kun.” 

“Aight. If yer not there within the next 15 minutes then I’ll drag yer ass there!” he said before running off. 

“Anahori-kun. Could you tell Yukawa-kun and Ryota-kun to meet in Gym 2? I’ll go find the others.” 

Keiji wove through the cafeteria swiftly. Finding Nekoma’s table was easy with their bright red tracksuits, and Fukunaga was able to point Keiji towards the corner Kozume had hid himself in.

[Do you understand how much of a _hassle_ it was to try and convince Kozume to participate in individual practice? But then, as soon as Hinata’s name was slipped in, the setter’s eyes had lit up and agreed milliseconds later (Though he may have declined last year due to the combined forces of both Kuroo _and_ Bokuto.)]

Shizen’s Masaru had agreed easily and their second year middle blocker, Chigaya, had joined, interested in playing with Kageyama once more (woah, All-Japan Youth!). 

Then last but not least, Karasuno. Keiji acknowledged Ennoshita with a nod before tapping Hinata’s shoulder, informing him of where they were meeting. He told Kageyama the same information just in case Hinata forgot. 

He then doubled back around to give Hinata instructions on how to get there, seeing as Kageyama was notoriously bad at navigating places and Hinata most likely already forgot how to get there. 

Keiji stood, silently distressed as he watched the both of them. 

How do you ensure two volleyball idiots can get to a gym on a campus they had never been to before. Wait. Kozume, that was it. But would Kozume just take Hinata and leave Kageyama behind? There was always the chance that all three wouldn’t make it to the gym. 

He sighed and decided to just trust Kozume.

Before leaving, his eyes caught on a tall blond leaving the cafeteria. He felt obligated to extend an invitation to Tsukishima, seeing as the blocker had joined them last year.

“Tsukishima-kun,” he jogged over, “A few others will be joining me for individual practice in Gym 2. We’re always open to more players.” 

The blond nodded, “Thanks, Akaashi-san. I will have to decline, though.” 

That was right, last year he had only joined because Bokuto and Kuroo had practically shoved him in. He had only stuck around because Kuroo was a semi-decent blocker. 

Tsukishima left the cafeteria and Keiji sought out Anahori, who had successfully located the people Keiji had instructed him to. 

Now, let's hope Lev hasn't thrown up yet and that the gym was neat.

.

Atsumu, himself, Anahori, Kaito, Yukawa, Masaru, Chigaya, Kozume, Hinata, and Kageyama. 10 people. Far more than Keiji was expecting.

“Gwah! Miya!” Hinata cried dramatically upon entering the gym, pointing at the blond, “What’re you doing here??” 

“You didn’t see him earlier? He’s been here all day!” Kageyama hissed, elbowing his companion in the side.

Atsumu grinned and waved, “Heya Shouyou-kun, Tobio-kun. Betcha didn’t expect to see me here, didja?” 

There he went, trying to act all calm and cool again. 

“Atsumu-san,” Kageyama nodded stiffly. Kozume stepped out from behind Keiji and dragged Hinata away immediately. 

“Woah! Kenma- I didn’t know you’d be here too!” 

Yukawa was the last to arrive, and Keiji wa instructed to lock the door behind him, because “we don’t let anybody join our cult willy-nilly, Keiji-kun.” 

“10 people. D’you reckon we could play some small sides?” 

“I’m sure everyone wanted to try out some new-” 

“YES!” Hinata exclaimed, “I want to play with Kenma!” 

“Dumbass! We were supposed to try out the new-” Hinata slapped a hand over Kageyama’s mouth before he could let anything slip.

“But we _never_ get the chance to play against each other, Yamayama-kun!” 

“Hey, Kageyama. Do you mind if we play together?” Chigaya requested, laying a hand on his shoulder. The teams were quickly split up, with Keiji, Kozume. Hinata, Yukawa, and Masaru on one side, with Atsumu, Ahanori, Kaito, Kageyama, and Chigaya. 

It seemed kind of unfair, seeing as out of the 5 people on Atsumu’s team, 3 of them had been skilled enough to be invited to the All-Japan Youth Camp.

Their group quickly encountered the problem that 7 setters and two middle blockers, they couldn’t exactly play like that. Chigaya brought up a position shuffle game, something they did at the Japan Camp, and soon it became a squabble over the setter position. 

On Keiji’s team, he was assigned to be a blocker and Hinata (the _one_ person who wasn’t a setterer) ended up as a setter. He glanced towards Kozume and- yup, he wasn’t pleased. 

If all of Kuroo’s complaints had been any indication, Kozume disliked any sort of physical exertion, and being a spiker meant a ton of it. 

On the opposite side, Anahori ended up as the setter. 

“Let’s play!” Atsumu announced, and cheers rang through the gym. 

“Kenma!” 

“Get the rebound-” 

“Sorry, cover!” 

“Akaashi-san!” 

“Wow Keiji-kun, make yer spikes a little harder to dig, won’tcha?” 

“Chigaya-san, sorry it’s low-” 

“Masaru-kun, that’s yours.”

“SORRY SORRY THAT WAS TOO LONG!” 

“Ryota-” 

Keiji blinked as the ball slammed beside him and a wide smile split across his face, “Anahori-kun, Kaito-kun, when did you guys develop a quick?” 

Both of the second years beamed at their success, “We wanted to surprise you!” Anahori grinned, “That was the first time we pulled it off!” 

They high fived each other and Atsumu praised them. 

“Alright, let’s get another point!” 

. 

Somebody tugged on the handle, trying to slide it open but failed once discovering the door was locked. They began banging on the metal and yelling.

Everything in the gym froze, and their group simultaneously turned towards the door, slightly terrified. The ball that Keiji set fell to the ground when no one jumped to spike.

“WHERE THE HELL DID ALL OF OUR SETTERS GO??” a voice howled. 

...

Atsumu was the first to break the shocked silence, letting out a slight huff. 

The spell broke soon after and all of them dissolved into varying degrees of laughter, the sound bouncing through the gym. The banging paused for a moment in surprise before it continued. 

“HEY! SOME OTHER PEOPLE WANT TO PRACTICE TOO, YOU KNOW??” another yelled

“Set for yourself, Toshimi!” Yukawa called back with a grin on his face, “Your tosses suck ass!”

Keiji turned back with a slight chuckle and their game quickly resumed, the 10 players quickly tuning out the growing crowd locked out of Gym 2.

.

[comic i drew like 2 weeks later](https://twitter.com/mandelineh/status/1349899645686849536)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow this chapter is long. Happy new year everybody, let's hope that it stays happy. I debated splitting this chapter into two but... nah. This one was fun to write. All the names dropped are from the wiki pages of the other schools lol, with the exception of the Fukurodani players. I might draw a mini comic for this idk. 
> 
> But hey! Do you like Oikawa? Do you like New Year's art? Here's a link!
> 
> https://twitter.com/mandelineh/status/1345048250391388165
> 
> Liked it, hated it, let me know, thanks :)


	14. Art

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keiji and Atsumu do "something illegal."

Keiji towelled off his hair as he returned to his dorm, only to see Atsumu starfished across his futon. 

“You’re staying, then?” 

“That match was amazing, Keiji-kun. There’s no way I’m going home after that,” he groaned into  _ Keiji’s  _ pillow, not bothering to lift his head. 

“Your home is like 15 minutes away.” 

He looked up at that, a smug grin on his face, “Yeah, but yer not gonna kick me out, are ya?”

Keiji frowned. Atsumu was already dressed in a change of  _ his _ clothes and had brushed his teeth using Keiji’s toothbrush (kind of disgusting, really). 

“Fine. How did you even find my dorm?” 

“Shuichi-kun told me. Pretty sure the kid would commit murder if I asked nicely,” Atsumu heaved himself up and crossed his legs, watching Keiji pull open the closet door and kick his duffel in. “Man, the last set was insane. Can barely move after Tobio-kun pulled that stunt.” 

“I’m pretty sure that’s just because you’ve done nothing all summer.” 

“‘Scuse you! Do you  _ remember _ yer coach’s conditioning? Sunarin would prob’ly break under all that. Damn blocker never moves his lazy ass…”

The room felt spacious, emptied of any stuff that Keiji may have kept during the school year since he was staying home for the summer. His roommate was another third year named Azuma, but he was home since he wasn’t on the volleyball team. 

The other teams were staying in the school, but since Fukurodani was hosting and because they were an academy, their team was allowed to stay in the dorms. 

Keiji had lucked out with a room that was both on the first floor and close to the entrance. 

“I’m on cafeteria duty tomorrow, so you have to remember to get up on your own,” Keiji warned. Atsumu waved a hand in response and rolled over so that Keiji had some space to lie down. 

.

Keiji woke up getting kicked onto the floor. He scowled at Atsumu. 

The first time Keiji had shared a bed with Atsumu, he was under the impression that the blond was a cuddler. 

If only that were the case. 

Rather than stick to someone like a leech, the blond did the exact opposite, he shoved everybody out of his space. As if it  _ was his  _ space. 

Which it was  _ not.  _ It was  _ Keiji’s _ dorm room, it was  _ his  _ futon,  _ his  _ clothes,  _ his  _ fucking  space.

But guess what? He couldn’t do a damn thing about it. 

Because it was Miya fucking Atsumu. 

It was nearly 5 in the morning. At this point, he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep, due to the fact that his body had enough to sustain itself and Atsumu would probably just push him again if he tried. 

He tapped the blond on the shoulder and reminded him that he would have to get up later. 

Atsumu grunted and gave something that resembled a nod before turning and falling right back asleep. Idiot would probably forget.

.

Atsumu slammed open the door, successfully drawing the attention of all 60 players sitting in the cafeteria.    
  
“AKAASHI!” he yelled, stomping over to Keiji, “Why the hell didn’t you wake me up?? You _know_ I wanted to get some practice in before the matches started!” 

Keiji gave him a deadpan look. Oh of  _ course, _ “I did.” 

He floundered for a moment, unable to grasp the words that he wanted to say. Atsumu settled on giving Keiji the nastiest stink eye he could muster. 

It would probably look threatening if Keiji wasn’t feeling pissed at him. He turned, unperturbed, and continued to eat. Times like these, Keiji felt a strong sense of longing for Bokuto to still be around. The boy could spew words at any time of day (both a blessing and a curse) and most of the time, unknowingly, became Keiji’s excuse not to pay attention to somebody.

Atsumu huffed and left to get a tray of food, nearly slamming it down on the table next to Keiji. 

Soon, his temper died down until it was nothing but fumes, and the blond was reduced to sulkily sipping on his soup.

“Come on,” Keiji muttered, pulling on his sleeve, “Games are going to start soon. I’ll hit some of your tosses?”

“Who said I wanted to toss to ya?” he shot back. Keiji gave his best unimpressed look and opened his mouth to rescind the offer. Atsumu quickly shut him down and got up, “Right, c’mon.”

As the pair returned their trays, Nishinoya and Hinata stumbled in, even later than Atsumu had. There was a good chance neither of them would be playing when the games started. Keiji lifted a hand to greet the coaches and retrieved a copy of today’s schedule from Karasuno’s manager, Yacchan? Yachi?, before finally leaving with Atsumu.

“I wanna try pinpoint tossin’ like Tobio-kun,” he announced after the net was set up. Since Keiji had agreed to spike for Atsmu, he was nothing more than a test dummy, “You suck at spikin’ so I just gotta make it so easy that ya don’t even hafta open yer eyes to hit it.” 

Keiji was suddenly reminded of the Hinata-Kageyama quick, v1. At that point, their freak quick was more Hinata-flailing-around-blindly-while-Kageyama-did-all-the-work rather than a joint effort.

He nodded nonetheless and fished a ball out of the cart, tossing it high for Atsumu. He fought against his instincts and tore his eyes away from the yellow and blue stripes, closing his eyes and jumping blindly in what he hoped to be the right direction.

His hand swung through the air. It hit nothing. Keiji began falling when the ball tapped against his shoulder and bounced off. Suddenly something caught against his forward momentum and- 

Oh great, down he was stuck in the net. 

Keiji opened his eyes and scowled, his arms caught between the holes of the net. Atsumu snorted. 

“When I said ‘so easy that you could it it blind’ I didn’t actually mean it, ya’know?”

“Shut up,” he muttered, ears turning red, “That toss wasn’t exactly gold, you know?”

Atsumu frowned at the reminder, “Yeah, sorry, it went short. Gah, how does Tobio-kun get it to drop like that?” 

He thought back to Freak Quick V1, “Did you watch any of Karasuno’s earlier games? In the beginning Hinata-kun actually hit it with his eyes closed. Kageyama’s pinpoint toss also… how do I explain this?” Atsumu looked up, “Er, the way Kageyama-kun sets it now, the place where the spikers connect is the highest point, after that, as you put it, it drops. Before, the ball went straight through, like, full-power all the way through. Maybe you should try and get that down before trying to make it drop?” 

Atsumu frowned, “There’s like, a million things that could go wrong with that. If the spiker falters for even a second, then the ball’s already gone,” he said. He stared at the ground for a few more seconds before turning to Keiji with a sharp grin, “Demanding. I like it.” 

Keiji watched him warily, “Save that for your own team, please."

"Relax, Keiji-kun. The point's to pinpoint, not make every ball un-spikable. Let's go again." 

Atsumu let out a frustrated whine when other players arrived at that moment to warm up for the day's matches.

.

Atsumu’s foul mood returned as soon as the coaches sought the two of them out and explicitly told them that they couldn't conduct anymore all-setter sessions.

“Let the rest of us form some tricks, alright?” Coach Ukai grinned and patted Keiji on the shoulder before leaving. The rest of the coaches repeated the sentiment before leaving.

“It seems our cult wasn’t very well-received,” Keiji commented. 

“Now I wanna do something illegal,” he scowled.

He called  _ Keiji _ dramatic. The latter decided to entertain him (when was he not, though), “Such as?” 

24.

“Spray painting. Theft. Assault. I don’t care.” 

“I’m pretty sure we already checked ‘assault’ off the list,” Keiji said drily, “We’re not stealing anything, either. Spray painting we could do. There are parts of Tokyo that are sanctioned for it.” 

“But then that’s not illegal!” 

“Yes, well, I’m fairly sure it’s ‘spray paint’ on your list, not ‘something illegal,’” Keiji took a guess. By the looks of it, he was pretty spot on. “When would you like to do it? We don’t have much time before lights out and-” 

“We’re sneakin’ out, duh,” Atsumu began to regain some of his vigor as he tossed a ball up and started muttering to himself. 

Of course they were going to break the rules. Keiji sighed and resigned himself to his fate (he would cave eventually, sooner or later, and he would rather it be sooner so he got  _ some _ sleep in.) 

He began picking up balls that had gone astray. Halfway through Atsumu finally joined him in his cleanup. 

“I have a plan,” he announced, “We’re gonna practice until lights out and then we’re going to sneak out of the dorms with as money as we brought. Then we’ll find the nearest paint store and then head off ta whatever part of the city you were sayin’.” 

“It’s a training camp. How much money did we even bring?” 

“Then we just make… what’s it called, minimalist art?” 

Keiji was kind of surprised that Atsumu knew the name of it. 

Tonight, the door was left unlocked and players began trickling in, intent on finding an empty court to conduct their practices. 

A majority of Nekoma filed in with Ubagawa’s setter and two of their spikers. They would be working on rebuilding their defense under Coach Nekomata’s watchful eyes, since they had taken a blow when both Yaku and Kuroo had graduated last year.

Similarly, almost all of Keiji’s team was there with him and Atsumu as they had to rebuild, well, everything. They were missing Bokuto, the formidable ace. Konoha, the jack of all trades. Sarukui, the dependable spiker. Washio, the wall of a blocker. Komi, the strong libero. 

Now was not the time to be reminiscing, Keiji mentally reprimanded himself and returned to helping Anahoi and Ryota with their quick, not thinking back on the Fukurodani Class of ‘13. 

Before he knew it, Keiji was being pushed towards the showers while his underclassmen were left with cleanup duty. 

“Take a bath, Keiji-kun! We’ve got illegal stuff to do.” 

“I haven’t even  _ stretched _ yet,” Keiji protested but that only seemed to fuel Atsumu’s strength (did the last  _ two hours _ have no effect on him whatsoever?).

The last half an hour flew by too quickly for Keiji’s liking, spent doing his long overdue stretches on the cold hard floor, since  _ someone _ was hogging his futon.

The lights in the hallway went out and they waited another ten minutes, just to make sure nobody else was around. Atsumu insisted on fluffing up his pillow and sticking it under the blanket “just in case somebody came ‘round to check.” As if they weren’t 6 feet tall and muscular, something a pillow could perfectly emulate.

Keiji quietly opened his door and glanced around cautiously. As expected, nobody was around.    
  
“Yer ass in so fuckin’ slow all of the store’s will be closed by the time we get there,” Atsumu hissed. 

They slowly made their way out of the dorms building before breaking out into an all-out sprint to cross campus as quickly as possible (Atsumu instigated it).

The entrance to school grounds was to the north, as they slowed to a walk to make sure they didn’t come across a stray teacher around the first year classrooms, where all their guests were staying. 

A small group darted out and Keiji froze, tugging Atsumu to a stop. He looked over. 

The group consisted of 4 Karasuno members, their ace, their libero, Hinata, and their pinch server. Hinata just happened to look over at that moment and his eyes widened comically at the sight of Keiji and Atsumu. 

Keiji slowly raised a finger and pressed it to his lips, praying that his message would be received. Hinata gave a small nod and grinned, making an action to mimic zipping his mouth closed. 

Atsumu pulled him along and they began sprinting once more, now out of sight from the classrooms and off of school grounds.

So much for that shower he took. 

“There’s a paint shop open until 11 just a block down,” Keiji said, voice still hushed, “Probably not the best placement for a place with cheap spray paint,” he added. Atsumu chuckled, patting his jacket pockets. 

Atsumu froze and his smile dropped, “...what if I told you I- er…  _ forgot something…?” _

Keiji stopped and squinted, “You didn’t. Tell me you’re shitting me.” 

His facade cracked and Atsumu cackled, loud and unabashed, “I’m kiddin’! I’m kiddin’, I have m’wallet with me.”

They stopped outside the shop and stared in through the small glass window at the rows and rows of various mediums of paint lining the walls. 

“I think it’d be rather suspicious if two teenagers walked in and bought spray paint in the dead of night,” Keiji noted, he glanced towards Atsumu’s pisshead, “Especially with your hair.” 

“Hey, what’s that s’pose to mean?” 

“It means we’ll look like delinquents. You go first and pick out a few colors you’d like. I’ll follow and buy black and gold.” 

Atsumu rolled his eyes, “Fukurodani through and through, ey?” 

He pushed open the door and disappeared into the shop, leaving Keiji to stare down the street and mourn the decision of not bringing a jacket. Who knew the summer air could be so cool? He glanced up to see a blank sky and was reminded of the time Atsumu brought him stargazing. 

Looking back on it, it became pretty obvious that ‘map the stars’ probably wasn’t on Atsumu’s list, and he had just done it for Keiji’s benefit. Atsumu’s words were brash and his actions were bold, there wasn’t a soft edge to him, but once in a millennia the setter managed to do something kind.

Said blond stumbled out of the shop distressed, shoving a bag towards Keiji’s chest. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“He asked me what I was buying paint for and I panicked!” Atsumu wailed, “I just took the bag and bolted! Fuck- now he’s prob’ly gonna call the cops or some shit.” 

Drama queen. Keiji brushed him off and peered inside the bag. Two cans, maroon and white.

He handed the bag back to Atsumu, who was still whining, and stepped into the shop, which was even cooler than outside. He nodded a greeting to the store owner, a tired-looking man in his mid-twenties.

Passing by the oil paints and acrylics, a white packaging caught his eye, hanging off the rack. Keiji plucked a pack of masks off the hook and continued towards the spray paints. 

He selected a metallic gold and an inky black before making his way back towards he front. 

“What’re you buying paints for?” the store owner asked while scanning the items. His tone was deceptively casual, a layer of suspicion beneath the words. 

“Redecorating my room,” Keiji lied swiftly, voice upbeat, “I go to school nearby, do you know Fukurodani? Our school colors are black and gold! I’m home for summer vacation right now and I was looking at my walls, thinking, ‘wow these are so boring!’ So then I just started painting, but I ran out, and-” 

“Here’s your change,” he interrupted, slightly exasperated, “Have fun, kid.” 

Keiji smirked to himself internally. Playing dumb schoolboy was always fun, if not a bit draining. How Bokuto managed it 24/7 was beyond his comprehension.

“Let’s go, we’ll have to take a bus,” Keiji said. Atsumu nodded and followed after him to the nearest stop. 

.

“Of course you’d draw a fox.” 

“What else would I draw?? Gotta leave my mark on the world, ya’know?” 

“What happened to ‘We Don’t Need the Memories’?” he asked, amused. 

“Don’t need ‘em but we can want them,” Atsumu huffed. It seemed kind of poetic. He glanced around the area, underneath a section of bridges was a mirage of paintings, spanning every inch of space there was. Tags, artwork, signs, any form of graffiti and it was all there. 

A few other people were there as well, working on their own pieces, occasionally waving to get rid of the fumes. He tugged up his mask from where it was slipping on his nose. 

“Yers ain’t much better. Ya drew a fuckin’ owl, that screams Fukurodani.”

“Fair point,” he leaned down to grab the black can and sprayed on a signature. Keiji glanced over to see Atsumu doing the same with the white. His fox was large and cartoonish, the edges nearly covering other pieces around it. The first few lines had been sloppy and too thick, resulting in dripping, but as Atsumu went on it became neater and the use of color was… interesting. 

Maroon and white didn’t tend to mix together well, he was half expecting Atsumu to nab his black, but the way it was drawn, maroon made up the body while white served as a highlighter, emphasizing certain spaces and illuminating the tail. 

His own owl was… garish. The gold shone as bright as day on top of the black background and he used the wall behind it as detailing, as opposed to Atsumu covering a large space and then working on top of it. 

“It’s been some time, we should get back,” Keiji said.

“Yeah sure. What do we do with these?” Atsumu shook his nearly empty spray can for emphasis, the insides rattling. 

“Keepsakes?” 

He snorted, “Cool. Hide ‘em in your closet and wait ‘till someone does dorm inspections, real smart.” 

“We could just throw them out.” 

“Hell no, this is mine. I’m keeping it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha why the hell are the chapters getting so long. I need to work on less.... stuff, and actually getting on with yaknow the list. I orphaned one of my works yesterday and wow was that scarring I feel like I just lost a limb. oh yeah follow me on twt @mandelineh
> 
> liked it, hated it, let me know, thanks :)


	15. Dye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keiji sees Atsumu... but in pink.

25.

“Help me dye my hair, Keiji-kun!” Atsumu sang, fresh out of the showers, hair still dripping with only boxers on. He hopped over to a mirror and parted his hair, examining his roots. “You reckon I can pull off pink?” 

“No,” Kenma muttered, passing by. Keiji snorted and ruffled his hair to get the water out of it. 

“Have you considered just letting your roots grow out?” 

“Nah, then it’d look like I dip dyed my hair,” he said. “Yer obligated to help me, as my best friend.” 

“I haven’t the slightest how to dye hair.” 

“Well ya gotta get bleach and touch up the roots, then get the dye and layer on top. Kinda wanna change the color, though, I’ve had this for more than 2 years.” 

He joined Atsumu at the sink and leaned on the counter, watching Atsumu scrutinize his hair. 

“You could afford to get a haircut. And buzz the back, too, your undercut is growing out.”

He ran a hand through the back and tsked at what he found. 

“Plus, would changing it to a different color damage it more? Your hair is coarse enough as it is.” 

“Yeah but it looks cool as hell.”

The faint yellow stains on Keiji’s pillow begged to differ. It was such a pain cleaning off his sheets when Atsumu would just go roll on the new ones with wet hair.

“Pink,” he decided, setting his hands on the counter. Atsumu shook his head like a dog and Keiji leapt out of the way to avoid the droplets. “Ya up to sneak out again? Oba-san works at a hair salon and she’ll keep it open if I text her. We can nab some stuff and go.” 

Keiji squinted at him, “If she’s willing to keep it open, then why don’t we just have her do it? Why do I have to?”

Atsumu waved him off, “Where’s the fun in it if there’s no risk?” 

“There’s the risk of getting caught.” 

“Eh. That’s just for you, I’m not s’pose to be here, remember?” 

“Even better.”

Overhearing their conversation, Yamamoto from Nekoma decided to tag along with something about his mohawk. He also dragged along the rest of the third years, Kenma because he didn’t want to sleep and Fukunaga because- Keiji didn’t actually know why. Of course, Lev wanted to be included and he brought along Hinata, who drew Nishinoya’s attention, but then Tanaka had declined since he didn’t want to relive his blond days. 

Keiji entertained himself by imagining Tanaka with blond hair.

They agreed to meet up in half an hour, twenty minutes past lights out. The Nekoma players would meet up with the Karasuno ones, and then Keiji and Atsumu would go retrieve them. 

Atsumu made the call to his aunt and they all cheered when she gave an affirmative.

“Operation: Dye is a go,” he whispered as soon as the clock on his screen ticked. Keiji followed the same procedure as the night before, peek outside to make sure no one was out, get shoved by Atsumu, tiptoe out of the dorms, sprint to the classrooms. 

Fukurodani’s hallways opened straight to the outside and Atsumu nearly ran straight past it if Keiji hadn’t pulled him back 

“Karasuno’s is 1-1, Nekoma’s in 1-2, and the teachers are in 1-5,” Keiji whispered, pointing to the respective signs. “1-5 is right at the entrance. We can either stay quiet and sneak past or go the long way around.” 

“I’m sure the kids can stay quiet for a sec,” Atsumu responded. 

Yeah, well, that wasn’t exactly who Keiji was worried about. 

The doors slid open at the same time and the other part of their group slipped out. 

“Akaashi-san-” Yamamoto abruptly elbowed Lev in the side to shut him up. 

“Stay quiet, we have to get by the teachers,” Keiji muttered, motioning them forward. They passed 1-3, Ubagawa, 1-4, Shinzen, 1-5, teacher’s-

The door opened. Takeda stepped out and spotted them immediately.

“GWAH!” Hinata yelped in surprise. 

Keiji’s eyes widened- it was too late. Takeda’s eyes quickly scanned over their group and they narrowed. 

A, try and make a break for it. B, stay and accept punishment. Or… C:   


Keiji snagged Atsumu’s elbow and dragged him forward. The action spurred the blond into action and he let go, willing his legs to work faster. 

“ _ Run, _ ” he hissed unnecessarily. Keiji heard the surprised shouts of the players they left behind but his goal was in front of him, in the form of obnoxiously wide shoulders clad in a dark blue shirt too small to fit. 

Atsumu broke out into obnoxious laughter as soon as they were off of campus. 

“Damn, never took you for a bad boy, Keiji-kun!” he exclaimed, clutching at his side as they slowed to a stop. 

“Yeah, well,” Keiji panted, “I hang out with you.” 

Atsumu continued to laugh as they jogged through the city.

.

Keiji dipped into a bow in front of Atsumu’s aunt, “I’m sorry if we kept you late, Miya-san.” 

“‘S alright, been wanting to get this boy,” she jerked a thumb back towards Atsumu, who was browsing through the shelves, “Some new hair for  _ weeks. _ ” 

She tossed a set of keys towards Keiji. 

“I trust that yer more responsible than Atsumu, yeah? Lock up when yer done and leave the keys in the potted plant outside, ya hear? Pleasure seein’ ya again, Akaashi-kun. See ya. Oh yeah, Atsumu? I left yer clothes on one of the chairs, I brought some for Akaashi-kun, too.”” 

Keiji was left alone with Atsumu in a small salon, two chairs and mirrors squeezed into the area. There was a sink towards the back, shelves with countless products lining the walls. 

He picked a packet of bleach and dye, a bottle of conditioner, a brush, and two small bowls, plopping them on the sink. 

Keiji settled in a chair and watched as Atsumu prepared each of the mixtures. He left them there and then crouched down to plug something into an outlet.   


“Keiji-kun, c’mere,” he waved Keiji over and pushed a now-buzzing razor in his hand, “The line should already be there, so lemme just find the guard and you can go ham.” 

It was easy enough as Atsumu said, since there was already a clear difference where to and not to shave. Small pieces of hair littered the ground and after Keiji finished the blond pulled a pair of scissors out of nowhere and pressed himself against the mirrors, carefully trimming off his blond locks. 

“Do it in layers,” Atsumu instructed, giving Keiji the brush, “Make sure not to touch my scalp, but cover as much of the roots as possible, ’kay? Technically I’m not s’pose to be bleaching already bleached hair so just like… I dunno. Layer it real thin? I already used a kinda-weak peroxide but it’s still enough to lighten m’roots. Just don’t mess up.” 

“I’m pretty sure anything would be an improvement over what you have now,” he muttered. When Keiji lifted his hand he became aware that he was much more nervous than he seemed, seeing as he was shaking. He scowled and grabbed his wrist with his other hand and slowly began to paint Atsumu’s head with bleach. 

His hair was so damaged that Keiji cringed just working through it. When he finished, Atsumu wrapped his head and pulled out his phone. 

“That’s it?” 

“Gotta wait 30 minutes for it to set in, make yerself comfortable Keiji-kun.” 

.

The pink was weird. Keiji would look over and nearly jump every time he saw taffy pink instead of piss blond. 

Did pink hair count as a redhead? Pinket? Twink would fit Atsumu better. No, not twink, twunk. 

“Atsumu, are you gay?” 

He whipped around and looked taken aback, “Heh?” 

“Are you gay?” Keiji repeated. 

“Maybe. Why?”

He shrugged, “I was just wondering. You kind of look like a twunk, with the blond you were a twink.” 

Atsumu narrowed his eyes, “I dunno whether to be complimented or offended. C’mere, I need ya to lather as much conditioner on my head as you can.” 

“Didn’t you just wash your hair?” 

“Yeah but now I gotta moisturize it or some shit like that.” 

Keiji slowly squirted conditioner onto his head while Atsumu furiously massaged it into his hair. The shockingly pink hair. Damn it now all of his pillows would be turning pink. 

Atsumu stuck his head into the sink awkwardly with Keiji holding the nozzle. He grabbed a dye-stained towel and rubbed, leaving a pink mark around amidst the rainbow of colors. The towel was just a hair shy of tie dye. 

(Bokuto would be proud of the pun.) 

“Take a photo with me,” Atsumu demanded as soon as it was blow-dried. Keiji rolled his eyes but turned towards the phone camera. “Hell yeah.”

“Sure.” 

* * *

The mop of pink hair drew everybody’s attention when Atsumu confidently strolled into the cafeteria, Keiji trailing behind him. 

Almost immediately, they were called over to the table that the coaches occupied. 

Coach Yamiji raised an eyebrow at the new hair, “Takeda-sensei told me something interesting last night. You both know you’re not allowed to leave campus for the training camp, correct?” 

“Technically, ‘m not attending the training camp, Coach. Seein’ as I don’t have anywhere to sleep, I’m allowed to leave,” Atsumu said, grinning. Coach barked out a laugh before turning to Keiji expectantly.

“I did not leave campus last night, sir,” Keiji lied, “I was in my student dorm, Anahori-kun saw me both entering it last night and exiting this morning.” 

Takeda rolled his eyes but returned to his conversation with Ukai. Coach Nekomata’s gaze remained trained on his soup but he chuckled under his breath. 

“Alright, Akaashi. Though somebody else left campus last night with Atsumu, I’d like to know if you find out who it is,” Coach grinned, not questioning either of them further. It was obvious he didn’t believe a word of what Keiji said. 

Atsumu guffawed as soon as they were let go, “Keiji-kun, you did  _ not _ just use Shuichi-kun like that.” 

He smiled, “Like what? I was telling the truth- I never left my dorm last night. I stick to the rules.” 

.

“Holy fuck! Did you see that?!” Atsumu yelled, pumping a fist into the air as Keiji landed. He grinned and accepted the high five the other offered. “Hell yeah! Tobio-kun won’t know what hit’im at the Spring High!”

Kageyama, who was standing at the court next to them, glanced over in slight worry. 

“It was like the ball was just sucked towards my hand, excellent toss, Atsumu!” Keiji praised. Finally. Three days straight of Atsumu tossing nonstop, and they managed to get it  _ once. _

The pinpoint part of it was really just an insanely high level of comprehension and adjustment, seeing as Atsumu definitely had the aim. It wasn’t really a special move or anything like that, it just helped Atsumu fine tune his tosses. Though if the spikers didn't have a need to adjust to balls, then they could put all their concentration on jumping and getting past the block and receivers.

How Kageyama managed to do it in about two seconds really conveyed just how much a genius that boy was. 

There were geniuses, lucky individuals who had the natural talent- they just had to polish it, and then there were the  _ monsters, _ the ones that fought tooth and nail for every scrap of skill they had just to be able to fight on par with the geniuses. Ushijima, Kageyama, Sakusa, those were geniuses. Hinata, Tsukishima, Bokuto, those were the monsters. 

Atsumu fit in with the second category.

Keiji fit in neither, he was just somebody who was given the chance to play alongside them.

“Let’s do it again! Do the same runup again,” Atsumu demanded. Keiji groaned- they had been going nonstop for the last two  _ hours, _ and it was all fine and dandy for Atsumu, who just had to stand there and use his brainpower. 

For Keiji, however, it meant running, jumping, spiking, the whole shebang. After this, his spikes would better be top tier or else he was going to throw himself off the roof.

He wasn’t even aware that he had sunk to his knees before Atsumu appeared in his line of vision, towering over Keiji with a judgemental look. 

It would seem scary and threatening if it weren’t for his  _ bright pink hair. _

“Up, up, up,” he urged. 

Keiji sighed, rising to his feet and walked over to the cart. It kind of reminded him of Bokuto’s endless spiking practice, except it was a lot more bothersome when he was on the spiking end.

He would also take Bokuto’s atrocious owl spikes over the limp noodle-turned-pink any day.

.

26.

“Time to have a life-changing conversation, Keiji-kun!” Atsumu announced with a clap. Keiji nudged him over and took a seat on the futon next to him. 

“Didn’t you already have one with Osamu-kun?” 

“1. Fuck you. 2. That doesn’t count, it happened before I made the list, and it’s only on the list ‘cause it replaced ‘run away from home.’ Unless you’d rather do that instead?” 

Keiji shook his head and twisted around, laying down and throwing a leg into Atsumu’s lap. The other immediately began tapping up and down it, staring at his wall. 

“What would you like to talk about?” 

“I dunno. What sort of stuff changes yer life?”

“The upcoming tournament?” Keiji suggested, “You’re not going back to Hyogo until school starts, right? Will you be able to sync with your team again?” 

Atsumu scoffed, “‘Course I will. I can sync with anyone. With the pinpointing I can prob’ly set to anybody.” 

“You still haven’t got it down yet,” Keiji reminded, “Will a team trust a captain who was absent for 2 months?” 

“40 days, not 2 months. If those fuckin’ first years doubt me for a second then they’re off the team. My tosses are the  _ best _ . They’re easy to hit. And if they can’t hit ‘em?” Atsumu shrugged, “Then they just suck.”

Keiji hummed and a moment later, the lights in the hallway went out. They fell into silence, Atsumu still tapping on his leg and Keiji nearly dozed off, if Atsumu hadn’t spoken up again. 

“Keiji-kun, ya better make it to day 3, ya hear? Inarizaki’s never played Fukurodani before the quarterfinals, and I wanna play against ya one last time before you retire.”

“Alright. Don’t bet on winning, though.” 

“Ya always this cocky or is this just for me?” 

He rolled his eyes, “You may have been training with my team but don’t forget that we’ve seen you, too. All the progress you’re making here is going back with you to Hyogo, and we’ll see the same moves you’ve been developing.”

“Yeah yeah. We’re still better than you.”

“I seem to recall Fukurodani’s won every practice match with Karasuno, and who did Karasuno beat?” 

“Didn’t think ya’d be so childish. We’re gonna play against Karasuno again and crush ‘em this time, you’ll see.” 

“It’s called the transitive property, Bratsumu.” 

“Hah jokes on you I dunno what that means, I failed my maths exam!” 

Keiji opened his eyes just to stare at Atsumu in disbelief. He somehow managed to put himself down and turn it against Keiji at the same time. He huffed a laugh and reached up to turn off his desk lamp. 

“Go to sleep.”

.

[pink atsumu](https://twitter.com/mandelineh/status/1345787293748101121)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. atsumu's hair must feel like straw. 2. idk pink.
> 
> why the fuck is the chapter so long, oh yeah and i figured out that hulu DOES have mha in sub my dumb ass just couldn't figure it out
> 
> liked it, hated it, let me know, thanks :)


	16. Messy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keiji helps Atsumu make a mess. Two messes.

27.

“It’s ti-ime!” Atsumu cheered, pulling Keiji away from his lunch. 

“Time for what?” he grunted, trying to wipe his face with the same arm that Atsumu was tugging on.

“Time to make an explosive!” the setter replied, dragging Keiji into the kitchens. There were still a few players milling around, checking up on the multiple rice cookers that were lined up along the counter. “I’m on lunch duty t’day which means I can do whatever the fuck I want with the ingredients and say it was for food!” 

“That is  _ not _ what it means,” Ennoshita glared at his obnoxiously pink hair from the fridge, wary but making no move to stop him. He was probably desensitized from the antics of his own team.

Atsumu grinned and opened all the cabinets until he found what he was looking for. Ah- when he meant “explosive,” he really just meant baking soda and vinegar. Keiji rolled his eyes and held his finds while Atsumu bugged the rest of the kitchen-duty members to find him an empty bottle. 

Fukunaga, who seemed oddly invested in this, supplied an empty sports drink bottle, which Atsumu took and eagerly rinsed out. He pulled Keiji by the wrist back out to the cafeteria and stepped on one of the benches. 

“Ahem, may I please get all of y’all’s attention!” Atsumu called. The Kansai-ben stood out clearly among a sea of city-folk. The closest most of them had ever come to the country was the Karasuno members, and even then, they were in the mountains and their accent wasn’t quite as rough. “Sick. Keiji-kun and I-” 

He found himself being manhandled into place next to Atsumu, and he flushed at the sudden attention. Damn it- Keiji struggled to get Atsumu’s hand off of his arm but the  _ pinket’s _ hold was firm. 

“-Are boutta put on a show. We’re creatin’ a bomb, and all of ya are free to come watch! Thank ya, and that is all.” 

The ‘bomb’ part might’ve been an overstatement, but it certainly drew quite a crowd and players began to surround the rectangular table, Atsumu and Keiji on the end. Takeda wandered over to make sure nothing went wrong, but the rest of the coaches remained seated. 

Keiji held the bottle steady while Atsumu slowly trickled vinegar in, “Shouldn’t you have gotten a funnel?” 

“Too late to go back now,” he shrugged, stopping when it reached about ⅓ of the bottle. “It’s a tiny bit o’ soda to a shit tonna vinegar, right?” 

To maximize the fizzing, yes. He stayed silent and Atsumu took that as an affirmative anyways. 

“You should cut off the top!” somebody called. Atsumu’s eyes lit up and soon somebody ran off and returned with a pair of scissors. Keiji could only sigh as Atsumu began to hack off the top of the bottle to the cheers of the Nekoma and Karasuno team. 

Everybody fell silent as the last curious players wandered over and Atsumu began his countdown. Keiji muttered along under his breath. He tried to take a step back- only to find people were pressed behind him on all sides. Great. 

“3, 2, 1!” Atsumu yelled as he tipped the baking soda in. 

They waited with bated breath for a moment, before their concoction began fizzing like crazy. They hooted and howled while the mixture rose- and rose and rose- until it tipped over the jagged edge. Atsumu practically barked when it dripped onto the table, still going strong, and rapidly began spready. 

Keiji cringed away as the vinegar crept closer and closer, stopping just centimeters away from where his shirt was pressed against the edge of the table. 

“WHOO!” Atsumu cheered, pumping his fists into the air and nearly punching Keiji in the face, “Holy- wow! That was awesome!” 

“Wow, it’s almost Grade 4 science fair project worthy,” Keiji said drily.  “I’ll help you clean it up if you can tell me why it does that,” he eyed the mess. There was a good chance he would be aiding the clean-up anyways.

“Hell yeah- easy. The baking soda’s a real basic bitch and the vinegar’s real acidy. The bitch goes and meets the toxic acid bitch and they fight ‘till it just becomes neutral and bam- carbon dioxide is their love child. The co2’s real waily and loves throwin’ tantrums so it fizzes and bubbles,” Atsumu stated. The few people left snorted at the explanation and Keiji rolled his eyes but smiled. 

“Good enough.” 

“That means you’ll help, right? Man, I was kinda hopin’ for a bigger explosion, like drippin’ off the tables one.”

“Then just move the bottle closer to the edge,” he deadpanned, accepting the paper towels Ennoshita offered to mop up the mess. 

“Hm… hey you reckon pop and mentos’ll do more damage?” 

* * *

“Keiji-Keiji-Keiji-Keiji-Keiji,” Atsumu chanted, shaking his shoulders. 

“Yes- what- you have my attention,  _ stop shaking me, _ ” Keiji grabbed onto his wrists and held them still. Atsumu looked borderline manic, eyes wild and alight, taffy pink hair sticking up all over the place. 

“Did you see Russia’s game today?? Because holy  _ shit! _ ” he exclaimed, letting out a delighted laugh. 

“No, the official video hasn’t come out yet. Weren’t you just watching the stream?” 

“Yes!” he laughed again, “That game was fan-fuckin’- _ tastic, _ holy hell! This one guy- Mikhail Orlov?? Look- Keiji, you  _ need _ to see this guy’s serve- it’s awesome!” 

Atsumu giddily replayed a clip from the match, shoving his phone into Keiji’s face. The man on screen took 6 steps back and tossed it high before sprinting up and smashing down a spike serve.

He was nearly vibrating with excitement as he showed Keiji a second clip. 3 steps back, a lower toss- a floater, maybe? He was slower this time, taking his time as he waited for the ball and-

Wrong. Orlov slammed down another spike serve, successfully dodging all of the receivers who had positioned themselves further up. Keiji’s eyes widened and he grabbed the phone, replaying it by a few seconds. 

The set up was drastically different but Orlov didn’t lose any of the power or strength as he gave the same exact serve as before. 

“Woah.” 

“Yeah- right?? So I saw that and I got to thinkin’ ‘bout my own serves, right?? Anyone who watched our games can tell ya how I serve, 4 steps and a low toss fer a floater and then 6 steps back and a high toss fer a spike. The receiver c’n always just position themselves correctly right from the 1st sec- well actually diggin’ it’s a whole ‘nother question cause they’re killer, if I do say so myself-” Atsumu was rambling now, leaping up to his feet and pacing around Keiji’s dorm, “And then watchin’ this guy- he did a completely different set-up and that threw off the other team! So what if- what if I did the whole 4 steps and a low toss thing but with a  _ spike serve. _ Now of course timing’s way different an’ all but like- just imagine it! Receivers won’t know what’s comin’ ‘till I’m already jumping! And by then it’ll be too late and- oh wow…” 

Atsumu grinned as he plopped right back in front of Keiji, planting his hands on the latter’s knees, “Whaddya say, Keiji-kun? Help me out?”

“Now?”

“Yeah! When else??” 

“Tomorrow, someone’s bound to notice if we go out now.” 

“What- no! Keiji-kun c’mon! Just for an hour- I swear! Just wanna try out an idea, you get me, don’tcha??” 

“No,” he said with a sense of finality, “You spent the whole day practicing your setting, sleep and rest, there will always be time tomorrow.”

Atsumu scrunched up his face and stuck his tongue out at Keiji. He got up and pointedly paced on the other side of the room, muttering to himself and occasionally taking a few experimental steps and swinging his arms back. 

He was like a child in many ways, easily excitable and inspired- followed by throwing a tantrum when they didn’t get what they want. 

Keiji closed his eyes, getting tired of watching Atsumu spin around. 

When he opened them again, Keiji was lying down and Atsumu was on the floor, tossing a volleyball up while laying on his back. He yawned. Did he fall asleep? 

“What time is it?” he mumbled. 

Atsumu glanced over and scowled at him, still tossing up the ball, “Half past 11? You weren’t out that long.”    


“Why’re you playing with a ball? Come over here,” he reached over and knocked the ball out midair. Atsumu’s face remained in a fierce scowl. Oh- he was still mad that he couldn’t try the serve. 

Keiji sighed. Atsumu wouldn’t be sleeping unless he struck a deal with him. Truly like a child. 

“I’ll let you wake me up early tomorrow and I’ll unlock the gym for you,” he offered. Atsumu was up in an instant, scrambling to climb into the futon. He knocked out the light while he was at it and seconds later, he was out like a light. 

Keiji huffed, so he was tired after all. He turned so his back was pressed against the other setter and fell asleep before Atsumu had a chance to kick him off the futon.

.

He nearly fell asleep mid-stretch, hunched over, if the slam of a ball hadn’t had him snapping awake in an instant. Keiji’s head snapped up and he stared for a moment. It was just Atsumu.

Keiji hovered around in a drowsy haze for the next hour while Atsumu furiously mumbled to himself and hit ball after ball into the net. He vaguely registered the other tripping and falling flat on his face before a coach burst in- Shinzen? Karasuno? yelling about practicing on an empty stomach.

The setter was much more alert for the rest of the day, mainly because of the fact that a certain someone was obviously absent. It was odd, playing game after game, without somebody cheering at their good plays and jeering at their bad ones. 

Thinking back on it, Atsumu would fit right in with Inarizaki’s cheer section.

Where was he, though? Keiji asked some of the other teams if they had seen an obtrusive pink head around campus, which yielded several results- yup, he was running around campus, yes, he was in the gym practicing with us earlier while we had our break, yeah, when I was getting some drinks from the vending machine he was down sprinting by the field and yelling, no, not at all. 

All of the answers varied and were all concerning to some extent. 

When their next break between games came, Keiji excused himself and began his search. The gyms were first to check off, and they were clear. Both the cafeteria and the field were empty, there was always a chance that he left campus, but Keiji couldn’t very well just search all of Tokyo.

He rounded back around the gyms when he heard the bounce of a ball against the wall. Keiji peeked around the corner to find Atsumu.  _ Finally. _

The twunk was just serving a ball into the wall over and over, catching it after it bounced or chasing after it before starting again. 

“Atsumu, I haven’t seen you all day.” 

He turned and raised a hand to greet Keiji. His face was a swirl of emotions- frustration, annoyance, critical, but the most prominent was determination. 

“Yo, What’s up?” Atsumu turned away and began serving again. 

“Nothing. I was just wondering what you had been doing,” he opted to leave out the campus-wide search he had conducted, when all he had to do was walk behind the gyms. 

“Tryna get the serve down. Just runnin’ at it didn’t work so I decided to start at basics,” Atsumu gestured to himself and the ball. 

It was a smart concept, though there were probably a lot of steps he could skip. Perhaps just try regular serves but with a different toss, and then build up from that. 

“Why were you at the field, earlier?” 

He flushed and ducked his head, jogging after the ball he missed, “Oh. You saw that? Sorry, got a bit- er- mad, earlier…” 

“Take a break,” Keiji stole his ball and spun it around. This one was particularly scuffed up and dirtied, probably because Atsumu had been throwing it against a brick wall for who knows how long. “How about we do one of the things on your list? We haven’t done one today.” 

Atsumu whined for a few more minutes before he realized that Keiji was not backing down.

“Damn it…” 

28.

“Whatever. Fuck. Let’s go jump in a fucking fountain,” he growled. 

“There aren’t any on campus.” 

“Then fuck, I dunno! This was your idea!” 

Never did Keiji think he would ever hear those words.

The pains of caring for someone. He sighed and racked his memory for a nearby park or something similar. There was always a school water fountain… no- he didn’t want someone to see Atsumu and/or him sitting in a fountain while getting water. 

He checked Atsumu’s phone laying on the ground- there were only about 10 minutes left until Fukurodani’s next game against Shinzen.’’

“Yes. Come on,” he tucked the volleyball under one arm and pushed Atsumu forward with the other, “We don’t have much time.” 

“Heh? Wait I wasn’t bein’ serious-”

Keiji tossed the ball through the open door of the gym and poked his head through, “Coach? I’ll be back before our next game, I’m taking Atsumu to- er- to the field.” 

Coach Yamiji raised an eyebrow but let them go. 

“It’s not really rest if we’re running the whole time,” Atsumu said, “We’re goin’ off campus again?” 

Keiji glared at him, he was trying to be  _ nice, _ damn it. 

“No, we’re running because someone’s trying to murder us,” he replied sarcastically. Atsumu followed Keiji past a small alleyway, barely wide enough to fit their broad shoulders. 

He screeched to a halt and then continued to screech as Keiji pushed him into the small pond on the other side. 

“This ain’t a fuckin’ fountain, Keiji!” he yelped, sitting up with his clothes drenched. 

“It’s not like there are any better options,” Keiji retorted.

“The fuck you mean?? There’s a million better options! Get back here ya little shit!’ Keiji darted away from Atsumu’s outstretched arm and jumped over the other hand that was swiped towards his ankles. 

Atsumu lunged forward and grabbed Keiji around the stomach, lifting him off of the ground and dunking him headfirst into the water.

He laughed and sputtered out any water that got into his mouth.

“Pond water is  _ disgusting _ ,” he said. Atsumu cackled at whatever expression he was wearing, still knee-deep in the pond. 

“Yer the one that brought us here! How didja know this was here anyways? It’s tiny,” Atsumu asked, surveying the area. That was true, the water only reached about 2 meters deep at most, and was about a quarter the size of a football field, but it was surrounded by apartment blocks. 

“A fated encounter,” he pulled himself up and scowled at his formerly white shorts, now a faint muddy-grey color. “Let’s head back, the our game is starting soon.” 

“Yer gonna play like  _ that? _ ” Atsumu frowned, “Ya look like shit.” 

Oh right. He hadn’t really considered that. Keiji couldn’t very well go on court dripping wet, could he. 

“Er. I suppose I’ll have to skip half of the set, then…”

He pursed his lips as they ran back, shoes squishing and everything clinging to skin unpleasantly. The pond water was sticky, gritty and even more disgusting as it became warm under the sun. 

As expected, Keiji returned to the school with about a minute to spare. Even then the 15 minutes were a rough estimate so the games could still be going on. 

“Er, Coach?” Keiji called, “I’m in a bit of a predicament.” 

He stayed outside as Coach Yamiji turned around and his brow furrowed at the sight of him. His gaze took in Keiji’s entire figure, damp matted hair, dirty skin, hideous shorts, and all. 

“I don’t even want to know.” 

“Is that Captain? O-oh-” 

“So… I need to take a bath and run back to my dorm....” 

“Yes, yes you do. Hurry back soon.” 

Keiji dipped into an appreciative bow and straightened, seeking out Anahori. When he spotted the head of black hair he called the other setter over. 

“Try and execute some of the combos you were working on with Kaito-kun and Onaga-kun, alright?” 

“Yes, Akaashi-san.” 

He left with another bow, sending a silent thanks to those above for not getting into too much trouble. Atsumu was standing outside the dorms when he approached. 

“Yo, it didn’t go too badly, did it?” 

“No. Stay out here, I don’t want you tracking water into my dorm.” 

Atsumu snorted, “Oh, like you won’t?”

He scowled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this chp kinda sucks bc i'm trying to finish the comic i said i would do for chp 13. i've lined the abt half of it so far and i've realized how much of a possessive bf atsumu comes off as.
> 
> i'm officially back in school which means... upload schedule might change. science is kicking my ass, geo is trying to hunt me down, english is haunting me, and french is about 3 seconds from stabbing a knife through my eye. fun.
> 
> dm me about anything on twt @mandelineh i can't guarantee i'm a good conversationalist but i can listen
> 
> liked it hated it lemme know thanks :)


	17. Disagree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keiji makes plans for Atsumu as the training camp ends.

"Hey, Keiji-kun?" 

"Yes?" 

"Yer still 17, right?" 

"Yes, why?" Keiji looked up from his book to see Atsumu draping himself over his stomach. 

"When? When's yer birthday?" 

"December." 

Atsumu's face cracked into a smug grin (never a good face) and he leaned forwards, "Awesome. My birthday's in October, see-" 

Keiji rolled his eyes and leaned back from his sitting position until his head hit his pillow. Of course.

"Which means I'm older than you, right- oi, look at me," Atsumu demanded. A second later he appeared sideways in Keiji's line of sight. What a nice clean ceiling it was behind him, what a shame a stupid dolt had to block it. "And obviously I'm the better setter. Which  _ means,  _ I'm yer senpai, ya hear me?"

"No, I don't. I've gone conveniently deaf," Keiji replied monotonously. He turned his head to the side to look at the foot of his desk. It was a good desk, a dark reddish-brown color with only a few scratched across it. It had been both witness and victim to the many all-nighters Keiji had pulled across the school year, as well as one near panic attack. A good, reliable desk. 

"Ey- you know what I'm hintin' at here, yer not dumb," Atsumu seized his face with both hands, squishing in his cheeks, "Say it with me now." Keiji glared at him as Atsumu slowly squeezed his jaw along with his words, "At-su-mu-sen-pai."

Keiji grabbed onto the other's wrists and pulled him off, "Calling you my senpai would imply that I have respect for you. And stay away from my team, too. Get one of your own kouhai to bother." 

"Yeah well I'm not  _ in _ Kobe right now," Atsumu whined, "Keiji-kuuun! Come on!" 

Keiji let go of his wrists and sighed. A moment later, Atsumu swung a leg over his torso, caging his body, and his hands slammed down on the ground on either side of Keiji's head, his eyes burning in intense eye contact. Keiji's eyes widened in shock and at their sudden closeness.

29.

Keiji blinked. 

"Did you just kabe-don me?" 

Atsumu grinned, "Yeah, ya like it? Been wantin' to try that one out for a while but it's kinda hard to corner somebody you met 2 weeks ago without it bein' awkward." 

"Oh, and this isn't?" Keiji snorted, pushing against his shoulders. Atsumu rose and rested on his heels. Or rather, what would be his heels if he weren't half-straddling Keiji's thighs. "Get off." 

"Ya gotta say the magic words," Atsumu sang. 

"No. Get off," Keiji pushed more insistently. Why was he so  _ heavy. _ Did he eat bricks or something? Fatsumu.

"Nah, 'm quite comfortable, really." 

Keiji stared at him. Of course he was serious. If he sat on Keiji's legs any longer they would start going numb.

"You know, I think I preferred you more when you were staring at me," Keiji stated. His grin turned wild- borderline feral.

"Oh really, Keiji-kun? All ya had to do was ask," he said, slowly raising himself so that all his weight wasn't pressing against Keiji's poor legs. Atsumu stared at him and placed his arms back, barely enough space to breathe between them.

Keiji thrust upwards, jamming his hips against Atsumu's, sweeping his arms down, and the setter wheezed in surprise. He used the momentary shock to roll over, flipping Atsumu over until Keiji was the one on top. 

He gave Atsumu his best unimpressed look.

The pinket blinked rapidly, as if he couldn't process what had just happened.

Keiji slammed his hands down for good measure.

"H-holy shit, Keiji-kun," Atsumu said, voice slightly breathless, "I didn't know you could be so smooth." 

He rolled his eyes and lifted his leg up, flopping back onto the futon. 

"Oi- you can't just ignore me right after that!" Atsumu whined, "We just had a moment! The intense eye contact! That flippy thing! You gotta admit that was kinda hot-"

He folded his pillow over his ears to drown out the rest of the sentence, but he couldn't help the slight flush creeping up his neck.

"I can't hear you, I'm asleep," he said. "Turn off the light." 

Keiji only released the pillow when Atsumu did as instructed and shoved him to make room for himself. 

"Hey can you do that again? I-"

He reached up and grabbed a fistful of Atsumu's hair. That shut him up. 

* * *

Coach clasped his hands together, "Alright, as you all know, today is the last day of the Fukurodani Academy Group's training camp. Let's make our last games count, okay?" 

The entire cafeteria cheered in response, Fukurodani as one of the loudest. The first years were hollering like their lives depended on it, though why, Keiji couldn't tell.

He himself was rather excited, nervous, whatever. It would be the one of the last training camps he would attend... ever. Unless there would be a short one held during winter break (which was highly unlikely).

Atsumu had no particular attachment to anything, he just liked yelling. 

With cheer leftover, the games lasted a lot longer that day, all the teams pulling out every trick they knew in a final showcase of talents. 

It was only a half day, with some of their attendees having to travel a majority of the afternoon if they wanted to get home at a reasonable time.   
  
All in all, it was a rather successful training camp. Keiji finally got the jump serve down, Kaito and Anahori's quick's success rate was rising, Onaga's emergency sets were amazing, and the whole team could sync with both Keiji _and_ Anahori.

"Ya think there's gonna be anythin' big planned?" Atsumu wondered aloud, munching on a big slice of watermelon. Yamamoto had a similar one in his hands, while Keiji and Kenma held smaller triangles. 

"Miya-kun, you weren't here last year but we had a huge barbeque! Man that was awesome, all the meat..." Yamamoto had a dazed look on his face.

"I doubt that'll be happening, though," Keiji interjected, "I asked the coaches about it last year and they said they only did it once every three years, so next time it happens the first years will already be third years."

"Yeah, but a guy can dream, Akaashi-kun," Yamamoto sighed. Kenma got up with his rind. He probably wouldn't be returning. 

Keiji finished off the last of his piece and shoved it into Atsumu's hands, a silent request. The other rolled his eyes but left anyways, throwing away the trash and heading up to Suzumeda. 

"You two close or something?" Yamamoto eyed him.

"Not particularly," Keiji shrugged, licking the juice off of his fingers, "We just spend a lot of time around each other." 

"I've been wondering about that, actually, how'd that happen? It's not every day an Inarizaki member comes waltzing into Tokyo." 

He shrugged again, "It's a long story. I happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and I was the unlucky individual who Atsumu imprinted onto." 

"Stop talkin' 'bout me like I'm some baby duckling," Atsumu huffed, handing a new watermelon triangle to him. 

"Really? Sorry, I must've mistaken your hair for-"

"Shut yer trap about my hair! It was amazing! I might as well dye it gold again seein' as no one gives two shits about pink," Atsumu pouted.

Keiji was right- it  _ was _ for attention. He looked over when he felt Yamamoto staring at him again. He gave a questioning look but the other just narrowed his eyes, flitting between himself and Atsumu.

"'Tora," Fukunaga wandered over and tapped on the spiker's mohawk, "Coach wants to talk to you about something." 

Yamamoto stood up and bid his goodbyes, leaving with Fukunaga. 

A thought occurred to Keiji as he stared up at the sky, "When we were leaving for this camp you told me we would be doing indoors stuff," he accused.

Before he could continue, Atsumu's phone began to ring. He frowned at the caller ID and tossed it aside, letting it ring out. Keiji leaned over and plucked it off of the turf with his clean hand.

1 missed call -  _ shit _

Who could warrant such a nickname?

"It's 'Samu," Atsumu said, "Don't wanna talk to him." 

"He's your brother."

"Yeah well he's a real sucky one I'll tell you that. You wouldn't know- you're an only child." 

Keiji rolled his eyes and the phone began ringing again, another call.  _ shit.  _ He looked up towards Atsumu, who's expression had flattened out and was eating his watermelon, "Just ignore it. He'll give up after 2 or 3 goes." 

He pressed the green accept button. Atsumu looked up, startled. He lunged towards Keiji, who held the phone out of reach. 

"Oi! Why would you do that?! I told ya I didn't-"

"'Tsumu?" 

His mouth snapped shut and both of them stared at the phone. 

"Oi. Say something, I know yer there."

Atsumu did not say anything, but his eyes moved from the phone to glaring at Keiji.

"Are ya still moping? I'm- god, I can't believe I'm sayin' this- I'm sorry, alright? But ya can't do anythin' to change my mind, I've already made the decision." 

He glared at Keiji and cleared his throat, "I'm not mopin' ya shit." 

There was a quiet sigh of relief on the other end, "Who the fuck're ya callin' a shit? Yer the one who ran off to Tokyo, Kaa-san's been worried sick since ya cut off all contact-"

"Don't fuckin' pin this on me, Sunarin 'n Gin were the ones who forced me to come here!"

"Yeah but ya didn't say a word! For all we know you went and eloped," Osamu said, a slight snarl to his voice, "Speakin' of, what the hell's up with yer posts? Did ya actually get married or somethin'? Who the hell's Akaashi?" 

Atsumu's face twisted and he lunged for the phone again, nearly eating turf as Keiji rolled out of the way. 

"None of yer business! Why the hell're you callin' anyways? Fuck off!" he exclaimed, suddenly defensive. " _ Keiji-kun gimme my phone, _ " Atsumu hissed.

"No," he whispered back. 

"Wait are ya with someone right now? Oh shit it's that Akaashi person aren'tcha. Why the fuck-" 

"I'm at their trainin' camp, a’right? Now will ya fuckin' hang up? I got better things to do," Atsumu scrabbled uselessly at the hand Keiji encased around his temples, fingers easily wrapping the width of his head. 

"Hell no! The fuck you mean 'trainin' camp??' Did ya join another team or something??" 

Atsumu knocked Keiji’s hand off and he fell off-balance, teetering backwards. Atsumu grabbed onto his other arm and used brute force to pull it towards him.    
  
“Fuck- doesn’t matter. I’m callin’ ya ‘cause I’m in Tokyo and obaa-san said you ain’t here,” Osamu said. Atsumu froze again. 

“Why the fuck’re you in Tokyo?? Thought you were sent to Osaaka!?” 

“To check up you ya fuckin’ dick!” 

Keiji sighed and scooted back. This would go on forever if he didn’t do anything. 

“Osamu-san,” he interrupted, “I’m Akaashi Keiji, nice to meet you. We’re currently at Fukurodani Academy and the training camp ends in an hour and a half. Please meet us outside then. Thank you.” 

He hung up. 

“Why the fuck wouldja do that??” Atsumu exclaimed, “I don’t wanna see his stupid face!” 

“Bratsumu, when was the last time you talked to your brother?”   
  
“Besides the point!”

Keiji pocketed the phone before Atsumu could do something stupid like cancel. He made a mental note to add the contact later.    
  
Before Atsumu could continue bitching the managers began making rounds, offering everybody popsicles. Not as high-scale as last year, but a nice surprise.

Atsumu hopped around, biting angrily on his ice pop but trying to make his brain freeze go away at the same time. 

Stupid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was planning to write more days into this, you could prob tell by the first scene but then the second scene went on too long and now we're here. They're out on the football/soccer field and all I can imagine is everyone just staring at them while Atsumu tries to fight Keiji. I keep thinking of that one kabe-don meme where the guy just jumps onto the wall, like all fours, but- hold up Atsumu would totally try that what the fuck why didn't I write that.
> 
> I had English first thing in the morning and I slept straight through the kahoot oops.
> 
> twt @mandelineh
> 
> Liked it hated it lemme know thanks :)


	18. Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keiji finally meets the infamous Osamu, now the third person in their group.

Atsumu was very quiet, something Keiji would normally beg for if it weren't for the situation. Add to the fact that his hands were literally  _ shaking, _ and there was the verdict: Atsumu was nervous.

"There is literally no reason for you to be nervous," Keiji said, waving as the last bus left.

"'m not nervous!" Atsumu snapped immediately, his hands clenching into fists.

He was a horrible liar.

"Great, because Osamu-san is standing at the entrance to the parking lot and staring at us," Keiji tilted his head in the other's direction. Atsumu's eyes widened and his head snapped up. 

The other Miya's form was steadily growing larger as he strode towards the two of them, probably drawn in by Atsumu's bright pink hair. It was kind of like a beacon, actually.

"I lied. I'm nervous. That means we can bail, right Keiji-kun? Hey we haven't done anything on the list today-"

"It would be quite rude to run away when the person is about 5 meters away. 4, now," Keiji interrupted. 

Atsumu closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. He shook out his hands and exhaled, rolling his shoulders. Osamu watched him with a confused yet amused expression as he closed the gap.

"I thought yer hair couldn't get any worse, but I stand corrected," Osamu drawled in lieu of a greeting. Bored eyes scanned over Keiji for a moment before they were back on his brother.

The twins were definitely identical, that was for sure. They both had the same face, body, and matching expressions of disgust. The only things differentiating them was their differing hair, one taffy pink and the other dusty grey,

"Shut the fuck up, 'Samu, what the fuck is yers s'pose to be? A rat's ass?" Atsumu sniped back. They glared at each other in a silent contest for a moment before coming to an agreement, both parties giving an infinitesimal nod and turning towards Keiji. 

His hands, which were already folded loosely behind his back, began fiddling with the hem of his shirt before he inclined his head and leaned forward slightly in a small bow.

Would Osamu be too familiar? Atsumu found it weird at first but would Osamu react differently? Too late-

"Miya-san. It's a pleasure to meet you, I've heard many things. I'm Akaashi Keiji."

Osamu tilted his head up in acknowledgement and gave him a proper once-over. There was something lurking underneath his flat expression, though Keiji couldn't read it. 

"Call me Osamu," he said at last. "And 'm pretty sure 'Tsumu hasn't said nothin' but shit about me. Nice to meetcha Akaashi Keiji."

Keiji bowed again and turned to leave, "I'll leave the two of you to catch up. Excuse me." A hand caught the end of his shirt and tugged. He paused for a moment and looked up to read Atsumu.

He had a slight scowl, "Can ya stick around for a bit?" he muttered lowly. 

"Ah, actually. Atsumu and I need to pack up our stuff in my dorm, before you two head off," Keiji said. Atsumu relaxed a bit and stepped forward.

"Why don'tcha join us today, Akaashi-kun? I wanna go up SkyTree and I'm pretty sure 'Tsumu doesn't know shit about Tokyo," Osamu said nonchalantly. Atsumu faltered and paused. Keiji could see his mind whirring. Osamu's flat expression broke and he looked incredulous as he looked towards Atsumu, "Yeh've been in Tokyo for a month and ya haven't even been to SkyTree??"

"I was getting to it!" Atsumu defended, "'Sides I already went to Tokyo Tower with Keiji-kun! Why the fuck do I gotta go up another one?!" 

Osamu reached out and smacked the back of his head, "Ya fuckin' idiot. What sorta question is that??"

They continued to bicker all across campus until they reached the dorm building, where Keiji held open the door for both of them. Osamu wandered in first and Atsumu paused next to Keiji, not looking at him.

30.

"We're goin' to SkyTree today," he muttered sourly, glaring at the back of his brother. Keiji rolled his eyes and gave him a slight shove because _it is very_ _ hot today can you please move you are blocking the entrance and that is not helping my sweat. _

.

Osamu ended up getting forced to pay for all of their tickets, since both Atsumu and Keiji had blown all their money on things like cat cafes and spray paint.

"What the fuck," he muttered as he pulled out his wallet, "'Kaashi-kun yer 17 right?" 

He thought back to last night and glanced to the side to see Atsumu smirking at him, apparently sharing the same thought. Keiji huffed and turned towards Osamu, who was still waiting expectantly.

"Yes," he confirmed. Osamu nodded and left to go purchase the tickets. Atsumu placed himself into Keiji's line of view.

"C'mon Keiji-kun, just once," Atsumu said, leaning forward.

Keiji leaned back, "No."

"Whaddya have to lose? 's not like anyone'll know!"

That was a lie- Atsumu had one of the biggest mouths he knew of, and Atsumu used it  _ purposefully. _

"My pride," he replied.

Atsumu snorted, "Oh come off it! That pride leapt out the window the moment ya decided to step into that sports shop."

Sadly, he was very, very correct. 

Osamu soon returned and the three of them began to ascend. 

"The biggest fuckin' tower in the world," Osamu started and Atsumu kicked him in the calf, "And you  _ forgot  _ about it." 

30 days, Keiji mused while roaming around the deck, weaving in and out of people. The twins were bunched together with the rest of the tourists at the very front, gawking at the sight. 30 days spent, practically attached at the hip with Atsumu.

Now with a third member to the party, he felt out of place, uncomfortable, especially considering the newcomer was a lot closer to Atsumu than Keiji would ever be. 

He glanced up towards the peak of the tower. The bold red beams extended for quite a bit, actually, even on the highest deck, and the color was almost offending. It stood out immensely among the rest of Tokyo's palette- a mix of greys and blues.

Keiji suddenly felt small, lost between the tourists around him, pushing and pulling; another grey building paling in comparison to the steel structure that towered above all others, calling for attention, bold and bright.

* * *

"'Samu- fuck off- yo, Keiji-kun, we're going to practice, right?" Atsumu tried and failed to push Osamu away from him, only to have the latter merely sidestep the arm he threw out.

Somehow, Keiji had completely forgotten about the fact that Osamu had no business in Tokyo besides his brother. Maybe he just thought Atsumu wouldn't be showing today.

How was he going to explain this to Coach.

Miya Atsumu, the literal best setter  _ and _ arguably best server out of the entire high school volleyball circuit, was one thing.

Miya Osamu, however.... he was the other half of the Miya Twins. The  _ Miya Twins. _

"You're not coming today," he decided. Yes- Keiji was  _ not _ doing this today. "There's a small outdoors court near the river, just follow this street until you hit the bridge and you'll see the net along the bank. Have fun."

He turned and left. A few moments later, footsteps thudded on the pavement and a hand landed on his shoulder. Keiji looked up towards Atsumu, who's face was twisted unpleasantly.

"Keiji-kun! Ya can't just abandon me with- with him!" he pointed dramatically towards Atsumu.

"Ya can't very well abandon me in the middle of the city either, dipshit," Osamu called back.

Keiji knocked off his hand and continued down the street, "I'm going to be late. I'll see you later, Atsumu."

.

When Keiji wrapped up the day's morning practice and left after a quick shower. 

Before he even reached the street leading down to the bridge, a head of pink hair streaked passed him. 

Keiji leapt out of the way just in time for somebody else to run into him, cursing and stumbling. 

“Sorry,” Osamu growled, reaching out to steady him, “Fuckin’  _ Atsumu- _ ” 

He turned but Atsumu was already gone, though where he was heading was the question. 

“We should probably follow him, Atsumu will get lost soon,” Keiji replied. Osamu cracked his neck and nodded, walking by Keiji’s side at a quick pace. 

“So how’d ya run into ‘Tsumu? I’m assumin’ he didn’t just crash one o’ Fukurodani’s practices,” Osamu said conversationally.

“No, luckily your brother has more tact than that. I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Keiji glanced towards the right to see pink hair ducked around the corner, “This way.”    


31.

“HIDE AND SEEK TAG!” Atsumu screeched as soon as they caught sight of them, pointing dramatically at the two of them. He bolted immediately afterwards. 

Keiji and Osamu turned to each other simultaneously, matching tired expressions adorning their faces. They nodded and kicked off, racing each other with every step. 

Their first challenge was rounding the corner, cutting it close to reduce time but also taking care not to clip the brick wall. Osamu pulled ahead for a brief moment, if not for the swarm of businessmen that suddenly appeared, all about to head out for lunch. 

If this wasn’t Keiji’s calling, what else would it be? He quickly darted around while Osamu was caught up in the middle. 

Keiji’s steps were long and calculated, gracefully weaving through the crowd, cooks stepping outside for a breath before the lunch rush, a grandmother out shopping for groceries, a mother trying to calm down her screaming child. 

Osamu blundered around behind him, shouting apologies over his shoulder as he nearly kicked the child in the face. 

He slowly gained ground on Atsumu, who was similarly tripping over himself and others. 

Keiji leapt in front of him, Atsumu flailing to a stop, and tapped him on the shoulder, ducking the arm swiped towards him.

“No tag-backs,” he said before whirling around and disappearing into a gaggle of gossiping women. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow is this unedited. Sorry I got caught up in reading other fanfics- speaking of, there's an amazing sakuatsu fic called 'foxes will lie' by meikoatsushi I highly recommend it I read it all today it's great. Then I started reading the mha fics by the same author and... well now it's late and here the chapter is.
> 
> Liked it, hated it, let me know, thanks :)


	19. Different

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keiji feels- different? about Bokuto, and Bokuto meets Atsumu.

"It's getting late, I should go," Keiji said, turning to leave. He only made it a few steps before he was pulled to the side. Atsumu?  
  
No, he tilted his head up, it was Osamu.  
  
"I'm headin' back to Osaka tomorrow, d'you think we could get some food t'gether before then?" he asked. Oh...  
  
 _His eyes are colder._  
  
Keiji considered it for a moment, he really did, but he already knew his answer before the sentence even finished.  
  
He must have hesitated for a second too long, because Osamu's flat expression fell the slightest bit before he nodded.  
  
"Figured. Guess it was worth a shot," Osamu shrugged.  
  
"Osamu-kun. Please don't take it personally, I don't typically go out with people I've known for two days."  
  
"Yeah yeah, already forgotten-"  
  
"Oi, dickhead! Are ya comin' or am I leavin' yer ass on the street?" Atsumu called, already a good distance away.   
  
_He probably started to walk and didn't realize nobody was following him,_ Keiji mused. He looked back towards Osamu to see the spiker with an odd look on his face as he stared at him.  
  
Was he actually torn up over the rejection..? No, it was something else...  
  
Keiji wanted to leave as soon as possible, no matter what was lurking heavily in his gaze.

.

"HEY HEY HEY! AKAASHI!" Bokuto yelled as he ran up to the group, "Sorry I'm late guys, there was this little rat in the metro that ran off with my card and-" 

"We understand, Bokuto-san," Keiji said. Bokuto grinned happily.

"I don't get a 'hello'? I'm offended, Bo," Kuroo scoffed, feigning offense. "I thought we were closer than that, bro."

"We're close, Kuroo! It's just that Akaashi's better!" Bokuto threw an arm around Keiji's shoulders and stuck his tongue out at Kuroo's middle finger.

Keiji waited for the sudden leap of his heart, followed by a slight heat in his face, but neither came. He felt aware, grounded, noticing the closeness to Bokuto but only feeling warmth, the way Kozume glanced up at him, the way Kuroo bantered with Bokuto.

Something was different. It was odd.

He wasn't quite sure if he liked it or not.

.

The entire lunch, Keiji is on edge, while they're sitting in the izakaya, every fleeting touch between himself and his former captain doesn't send jolts of electricity. Wandering through downtown, watching Bokuto fawn over the cool things he found sent fond feelings fluttering in his chest, but in the way that he feels when his mother is receiving a gift he put a lot of thought into, or watching his little cousins look delighted as he sets the ball.

They end up in the Nerima Ward, at the outdoors net with a makeshift ball made out of a grocery bag they had snagged from the supermarket. 

While watching the "ball" slowly float over to Kuroo, Keiji can't help but think, Atsumu and his brother were here yesterday. 

The little divet in the ground, perfectly volleyball shaped, he can imagine Atsumu, eager to show off his new half-baked serve, botching the jump because of the unfamiliar ground, slam the ball straight into the dirt, not even making it to the net. 

The large footprints in the mud right next to the river, Atsumu standing there as he attempted to push his brother in, but ending up in a standing wrestling match instead.

Plastic bounces off his head and Keiji blinks, looking up to see Kuroo raising an eyebrow at him. 

"Sorry," he quickly apologized, picking the "ball" off his head, strands of hair flying everywhere from the static. Keiji's phone buzzed in his pocket and he excused himself to check his new text.

Bratsumu

_yo hows ur date going_

Sent 3:05

Me  
 _It's not a date, Kuroo and Kozume are here too_

 _Btw I have some updates for you_

Sent 3:06

Bratsumu

 _so a doubledate then_

 _WAIT WHAT_

 _did smth happen??_

 _also since when did u use abbrv??_

Sent 3:06

Me  
 _Not exactly_

 _Abbreviations are simpler than typing out full words_

Sent 3:07

Bratsumu

 _says the guy who jus t spelled out "abbreviations" lol_

Sent 3:08

Keiji felt someone peering at his phone and he flipped it over defensively, turning it off with a click.

Kuroo tilted his head with an amused look, "Don't look at me like that, I was just wondering who you were texting!"

"A friend," he answered stiffly.

"Oh?"

Kozume ducked under the net and shuffled over to kick Kuroo's ankles. Keiji snorted, "Don't be such a pain in the ass, Kuroo-san."

"Yeah, Kuro," Kozume muttered, "Can I go now? 'Tora won't stop texting me about practice." 

Kuroo quickly turned, appalled, "YOU'RE SKIPPING PRACTICE?!"

The setter shrugged, "You were the one that insisted on me coming. It just happened to coincide with practice."

Keiji hid his laugh behind his hand as Kuroo ushered Kozume away, voice steadily rising as he chastised the latter about responsibilities, or something like that. 

"I got our ball back!" Bokuto declared, realizing belatedly that half of their group was gone, "Hey where did Kuroo and Kenma go?"

"Kozume was skipping practice," Keiji explained. Bokuto's mortified look was quickly tuned out as his phone buzzed again. 

"Hey who's that?" he asked, trying to read the notification upside down.

"Atsumu-kun. I'll talk to him later," Keiji slipped his phone away and focused his attention back on Bokuto, "There's about an hour left until practice stars. How would you like to play with us as an alumnus, Bokuto-san?"

.

Keiji realized when Bokuto was already chattering about all the things he wanted to do with the new team that Atsumu and Bokuto would be _meeting._

By that point Bokuto was rifling through his closet looking for old practice clothes that still fit while Keiji sat at the spiker's desk.

He resigned himself to this fate as the school's entrance was already in sight and Keiji couldn't very well ditch him.

Keiji found the door already unlocked- Coach was already here. He slipped into his shoes and picked the other pair up, lining them next to Atsumu's along the wall. Of course he was already here.

"Ey, Keiji-kun! How'd yer da..." Atsumu trailed off when he saw Keiji's companion, "Ah, ya must be Bokkun!"

"Bokkun?" Bokuto asked, cocking his head to the side. He pounded a fist against his palm when it clicked, "Oh! Like a nickname! Miya Atsumu, right?? If you have one for me then I should give you one! Miya-kun, Mi-kun, Mi-chan?"

"Nah, if ya wanna give me one, then use Atsumu," he replied, eyes quickly scanning over Bokuto's build, popping a bit at his enormously broad shoulders. 

"Hm... Tsum-Tsum!" Bokuto declared, eyes lighting up, "I'll call you Tsum-Tsum!"

"Nice-"

"Is that Bokuto I hear?" Coach appeared, a delighted smile breaking out on his face as he spotted the spiker, "Bokuto! How come you haven't visited sooner?"

He let out a slight laugh and began spinning an excuse for the Coach, probably slipping in a few exaggerations in while he was at it. 

Keiji wouldn't know, seeing as Atsumu immediately pulled him away.

"How come ya didn't tell me he was ripped?? 'Cause holy _shit_ that guy's thighs shouldn't be legal."

He rolled his eyes, "Where's your brother?"

"Out somewhere eatin' his weight in food," Atsumu said, "Don't change the topic here, have you _seen_ his arms? Oh yeah and what was that development you were talkin' about earlier?"

"Yes about that," he frowned, "I'm not quite sure I like Bokuto-san anymore."

"HAAHH?!" Atsumu exclaimed, "How the fuck- why not?? The guy's as built like a brick house, he plays volleyball, and he's nice! Why don'tcha like him?" 

Great question! Now if only Keiji could get an answer.

"I'm not sure. It took me 9 months just to verify I had a crush on him in the first place, mind you."

"9 months?! i woulda imploded by then. Fuckin' hell- that's enough time to have a baby!"

Keiji rolled his eyes but couldn't help the snort that escaped.

32.

"Right yeah. Change o' plans I'm tellin' 'Samu to get his ass over here 'cause we _need_ to know how the hell Bokkun does those super crazy line shots," Atsumu fetched his phone from his bag and began typing quickly.

Nights upon nights, multiply by hours, and add on days- of practice.

Keiji would know. He was there for all of it.

He groaned at the thought of going through that process again.

"Oi, this is important, aight?? I didn't know you looked forward to our little adventures so much, Keiji-kun," Atsumu joked, fingers still flying furiously fast.

Well, this wasn't an opportunity that came by often. It seemed like today would be designated to spiking. 

.

3 monsters, all in one place. Bokuto, Atsumu, Osamu.

Keiji was absolutely _exhausted,_ nearly about to collapse while the other 3 seemed to get more hyped with every minute that passed during their individual training.

Toss after toss after toss, followed by even _more_ tossing when Atsumu wanted to start spiking, too.

The twins were actually _thrilled_ when they took one of Bokuto's sharp cut shots to the face. Keiji could not see why. He had been on the receiving end once, and it ended with a very bloody nose, which freaked Washio out, and Onaga followed whatever the older blocker did so he freaked out too, which in turn set off-

Getting off topic.

They started to wind down, only after Keiji remarked that Osamu was going to miss his train if he didn't leave soon.

Though it wasn't without a lot of complaining on Bokuto and Atsumu's end. The two moped for a bit while Keiji and Osamu cleaned up the court, forcing them to get mops from the supply closet. A few minutes later they found the two comparing basketballs to volleyballs while still standing inside the closet.

Sometimes, it was really easy to see why people preferred Osamu.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this as an email and sent it to myself lol. Let's hope it didn't mess up the formatting for this chapter. Remember when I was ranting about classes haha I was assigned an essay today and orchestra is like staring at me from the distance.
> 
> Oh yeah Osamu was shot down too. I'm pretty sure that inspired me 'cause now I'm drawing Osamu art and wow it is long overdue.
> 
> Liked it, hated it, let me know, thanks :)


	20. Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keiji and Atsumu write, and then Atsumu does hair pt. 2.

Keiji idly tossed a ball up and down while Atsumu hogged the fan, scanning down his crumpled piece of paper. Messy words spilled onto the back, large x's and checks dotting the page.

"Ey Keiji-kun? Was there anythin' ya wanted to do b'fore summer ended?" he asked, scribbling down a note at the end and writing a check next to it. Most likely the practice they did yesterday, "Lotta these things don't seem as appealin' as they did a month ago."

He caught the ball and paused. Anything he wanted to do? Keiji had already finished his summer homework, the team was steadily improving, and Atsumu had checked the 'make a friend' box.

So, "No, not particularly."

"Really? Nothin' at all?" Atsumu sounded shocked, as if he didn't call Keiji every other day, "I feel like if I hadn't come along ya woulda just spent the whole summer holed up yer little Western-style room and read manga or something."

"We're 'holed up in my little Western-style room' right now," Keiji pointed out. He resumed setting the ball to himself. Atsumu waved him off, propping himself onto his elbows.

"C'mon, just one thing. Don't even gotta be complicated, it can just be meaningless."

One thing..? He quickly ran down several categories, arts was out since the spray painting night, and his piano days were long behind him. Science seemed out of the question seeing as Atsumu decided baking soda & vinegar constituted a bomb. Maths... Atsumu barely knew how to recite the quadratic formula.

33.

"Let's write," Keiji decided.

"'bout what?"

"A letter. To... our past selves? About what we would've done differently?"

"Nah, 's not like baby-us is gonna read it. Write to our future."

Actually not a bad idea, "How far?"

"2020. The Olympics'll be in Tokyo, perfect for both of us!" Atsumu grinned. Keiji snorted, of course it would be volleyball based. He found an opened pack of loose-leaf paper and handed it to Atsumu, along with a pink pen with a Vabo-chan on the end of it.

_ Dear Keiji, _ was a good start. He tapped the pen against his lips. How should he start this off?  _ I hope you're happy- _ no, that made it seem like he was in a place where he was unsatisfied. Keiji was quite content with how things were, though they could always improve.

_ I hope you've gotten a job by now, and that you're pursuing literature. Though that is my dream now, I don't know how you'll feel in 7 years. _

He paused again and glanced towards the floor, where Atsumu and nearly filled in two thirds of a page already, his handwriting a messy scrawl, lopsided kanji left and right.

_ As I'm writing this, I'm sitting in my room with Atsumu on the floor. He'll be gone in 7 days. It'll be quiet. Has he made the national team yet? A setter of his caliber will surely rise to the top. It would be a shame if he were to miss the chance to play in Tokyo as a representative of Japan. _

_ Do you still keep in contact with Bokuto-san? Kozume-kun?  _ His pen stilled for a moment before writing down the next words,  _ Atsumu? It seems like a foreign concept to me, passing each day without somebody dragging me through the city, yapping my ear off. I suppose that's how it will be once school starts, regardless. _

_ I'll be 24 this time of year in 2020. Kaa-san and Otou-san got married when they were 22, fresh out of college. How far will I be on my life plan? Or rather, how far have you already travelled? _

_ It's expected for me to already have moved out at that age. A job with stable income, if I'm lucky. Maybe a partner? If it's a woman, will we get married soon? Have a child? _

_ Thinking about a relationship is odd now that it seems my feelings for Bokuto-san have faded. Did I ever stand a chance with him?  _

Atsumu rustled around his papers and made a small 'tsk' sound before diving back for a new round of writing.

_ I hope I don't forget to live- go on dates, party with friends, watch matches. Apparently I was what was known as a 'workaholic,' and didn't have any free time. Now it seems like time is limitless, I'm free to do what I choose. _

_ Around this time last year, Tsukishima-kun had approached Bokuto-san and Kuroo-san and asked them why they tried so hard in volleyball. Bokuto-san had told him that he hadn't enjoyed the game until he began using his line shots in games. It seems I came in touch with a "moment," too. No, a better way would be saying I reconnected. _

_ Playing with Bokuto-san and the other third years was exhilarating, exciting. When they graduated it was like the world had crumbled, and volleyball became just another task to sort out. We almost didn't make it to the Interhigh Nationals this year. Then,  _ Keiji stopped. Then what? He enjoyed the game now, what was the reason? When had he begun to feel this way?

His eyes flickered to the side and he knew his answer.

_ Then, Atsumu came. _

* * *

"Damn, yer serves are solid now," Atsumu panted, picking himself off the floor. He held his hands out and the ball dropped into them neatly. 

"Clearly not, if you're still able to dig them so easily," Keiji frowned. He prepared for another one when Coach called them over and set them onto blocking practice. 

Atsumu ducked behind the net to ask as their faux spiker, running up to the net at different speeds and intervals while Onaga led the blocks on the other side. 

Onaga signalled a moment too early, and Atsumu's easy going grin turned smug when he was still reaching the peak of his jump as Keiji fell. 

"Onaga-kun. Incorporate read blocking a bit more. Since you're the one that'll be in charge of timing our jumps, you need to be the one alert. If you're too late, or too early, then all of us will be off," Keiji ordered. He nodded and apologized quickly. 

Atsumu took a couple steps back before spring to the other side of the court, Keiji followed him, a step behind. 

"Straight! 1, 2, up!" Onaga called. He made sure to step close to the end line and tighten up on the side. Atsumu landed with a calculating look on his face.

"Ryota-kun," he decided, "There's somethin' off. Yer all- stiff? I dunno, but yer arms are like- super straight and blocks are s'pose to be  _ eeehhh,  _ yaknow?" Atsumu made a vague gesture with his arms that only served to confuse Kaito more.

Well, not all people could be fluent in  _ "eeehhh." _

"What he means is that your blocks lack presence and they aren't strong enough," Keiji translated. He recalled Kuroo's words from a year prior, "Instead of sticking your arms straight up, push them over the net, a little. It's more useful in kill-blocking, but for the sake of this drill we're assuming every block is to kill the ball."

"So, like- extend them?"

He nodded.

"Alright. Thanks, Captain, Atsumu-san." 

Keiji turned towards Atsumu, who now had a thoughtful look.

"Yer good with the kids, ya'know that?"

He shrugged, "They're only a year younger than us, and I  _ am _ the captain, after all."

Atsumu chuckled, smooth and low, "Alright then, Captain-san. Oi- Shuichi-kun! C'mere and toss me a few, let's give 'em some  _ real _ blocking practice."

.

34.

"Oi, I got myself a job and yer comin' with," Atsumu said. Keiji wedged his phone between his ear and his shoulder as he shuffled through his closet. 

"A job?"

"Yup. At oba-san's salon. She has a client comin' in for a dye job today and I'll be doin' it," he clarified.

Keiji hummed in response, "And when is this?"

He huffed, "Relax, won't interrupt practice. It's 'round 1:30, I think. Plenty of time."

_ I don't really know why you expect me to be there, _ Keiji didn't voice.

"Alright," he said instead.

.

Out of courtesy, Keiji brought Atsumu's aunt a store-bought bento, seeing as she seemed to be a busy person. And one for Atsumu, because the pinket wouldn't stop huffing if he didn't. Then one for himself, because, well, he needed to eat.

"What's in the bag, Keiji-kun?" Atsumu peered curiously at the bag clutched in his hand.

"Food."

The setter perked up, "Really? What food?"

He rolled his eyes, "Don't get your hopes up, it's just a store-made bento."

"Dunno, store bento seems pretty special to me. What's the occasion?"

"It's for your aunt. Thanking her for taking on such an... experienced worker," Keiji said, thinking back to the limp noodle look. He eyes Atsumu's pink hair with distaste. He was used to it now, but Keiji still couldn't tell if it was a welcome change or not.

He groaned, hunching over, "Will you  _ shut up _ about my hair?? 's great! I look fantastic! Yer just boring!"

"I don't think curly hair is that boring," Keiji said, absentmindedly running a hand through his hair. It was getting a bit too long, curling under his ears and nearly sweeping over his eyes. 

Atsumu pushed the door open for him and he stepped inside, blinking as the fan turned to blast air in his face. He looked around unsurely. Atsumu's aunt used his free hand to wave, the other locked between a customer's locks. 

"Atsumu, Akaashi-kun. Oh didja bring something? Set it on the sink counter, think it's the only place open at the mo," she said. Keiji bowed a slight greeting before doing as instructed, while Atsumu flung himself into the vacant seat, pulling out his phone and scrolling through it.

"Ey- c'mere Keiji-kun. Wantcha to look at something," Atsumu waved his phone in Keiji's face. "Was talkin' to Tobio-kun during the training camp and he mentioned an Oikawa Tooru. I didn't know who he was but I searched 'im up and  _ woah _ he's good."

He raised an eyebrow, that was pretty high praise. He watched a clip play out. A figure clad in a white and teal jersey with a 1 branded on the back sprinted across court with a finger extended, almost reaching the barrier as he leapt up and twisted around. In one motion, the boy sent a super-long quick, right into the waiting hands of a spiker that had leapt up to jump.

"Ya reckon I could do that?"

"Probably. I think the key thing to pulling that off was the trust between the setter and that spiker. The way he pointed dramatically," Keiji said. He squinted, "Is that a game against Karasuno?"

"Yup," Atsumu popped the 'p' and then sniggered, "If ya just watch a couple more seconds he- well I'll just show you."

Keiji leaned down again and it began to play again, immediately after the ball was set, the graceful form of the setter began to fall, crashing into a table and immediately scrambling to get up, nearly tripping over the banner hanging off the table.

Atsumu snorted obnoxiously at the clip, playing it again to see the player collide.

"The pain of others amuses you?" Keiji deadpanned. Atsumu rolled his eyes.

"Duh."

.

Watching Atsumu actually do someone’s hair was interesting. Perched atop a small stool, Keiji could see the way each stroke of the brush was diligent and intentional, he definitely knew what he was doing. Maybe from helping his brother?

The customer was a high school girl around their age, hoping to go completely blond. She was quite chatty, something Atsumu responded to with great enthusiasm.

“-and then she told  _ me _ that I was being inconsiderate!” the girl exclaimed, Ashido? Ashida?   
  
“That fuckin’ bitch,” Atsumu very near snarled, “Yer a right delight!”   
  
“Thank you! So after that I just cut her out, I don’t need any toxic bitches in my life,” she huffed. 

“Oi, Atsumu! Stop gossipin’ and get workin’!” his aunt called from where she was eating. 

“It’s called  _ multitasking! _ ” he said, “I’m doin’ a damn good job and ya know it too!”    
  
His aunt and Keiji hummed disbelievingly at the same time and caught each other’s eye. He turned away to hide a smile and she broke out into small chuckles. Atsumu’s lips twisted in a scowl before he stuck his tongue out at them. The girl even giggled lightly. 

Atsumu wrapped up her head and ordered her to hang around for 15 minutes or so.   
  
“So how’s your job going?” Keiji asked when Atsumu stripped his gloves and collapsed over his legs stomach down. 

“These pricks keep makin’ fun of me while I’m tryna work,” he complained. Keiji offered him a piece of chicken, which he took into his mouth sulkily. “Gimme some rice.” 

Atsumu finished off a majority of Keiji’s bento so he cracked open the other one. 

“Oi, get back to work, Atsumu,” his aunt called. He heaved himself up and Keiji sighed in relief as he regained feeling in his legs. Atsumu washed his hands and face in the sink before turning back to the girl and unwrapping her head. 

He quickly rinsed off the remaining bleach and used a copious amount of conditioner to try and re-moisturize it. 

“And yer done!” he declared, throwing up her now blond locks.

“No yer not!” Atsumu’s aunt exclaimed, jumping over and hip checking Atsumu to the side, “You always forget the fuckin’ toner! Just ‘cause yer hair can look like piss don’t mean everyone wants it!” 

Keiji snickered quietly as Atsumu began yelling back at her, defending his golden head, claiming that “it was an artistic choice!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about not posting yesterday I got pissed because I ran out of time on my maths quiz. The first part of this fic was written at like... 2 in the morning so I got all sad and stuff, then the second was uncreative seeing as I already did a hair thing. Also Atsumu doesn't know what toner is.
> 
> I think I'm falling down a MHA hole, I wrote half of a oneshot yesterday lol.
> 
> twt: @mandelineh
> 
> Liked it, hated it, let me know, thanks.


	21. Thirst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keiji gets his head basically forced into the gutter.

"There's another training camp tomorrow," Keiji said, scrolling through his phone's calendar. Atsumu's head shot up.

"Hah?? Why the fuck didn'tcha tell me sooner?"

"It's not like it'll affect your decision, forewarning or not."

Atsumu rolled his eyes and pulled Keiji's blanket off of his bed, readjusting the fan and crawling up next to him.

"Repositioning the fan isn't going to do anything if you just end up lying on top of me," 

"Nah, if I do this," Atsumu flipped over so that his left side leaned against Keiji'e stomach, "Then my left'll be super hot and the fan'll make my right super cold. I'll be like that fire-ice guy."

"Todoroki? From Boku no Hero?" Keiji asked, amusement seeping into his tone. He should catch up it, actually, "Apparently they're making an anime out of it next year."

"No shit? How the fuck do ya know so much 'bout manga, Keiji-kun?" 

"Well, not everybody lives and breathes volleyball," Keiji hummed. He lifted his hand and began threading his fingers through his pink locks. It felt like straw. 

"'m pretty sure 'Samu stole Volume 4 of that and never gave it back," Atsumu said. Keiji's hand drifted lower experimentally and ran it across the buzzed portion. It was surprisingly soft and fuzzy.

His eyebrows raised.

"Stop rubbin' my head, 's weird," Atsumu grunted, leaning over to snatch his phone off the ground.

"Your hair is weird. Why is the buzzed part so soft?" 

Atsumu shot him him an unimpressed look, "Whaddya think, genius? I need a shit ton of conditioner to heal the bleached part. M'undercut's not bleached, ergo my healthy natural hair is exposed to a ton of conditioner."

That made sense. He place his hand on the back of his hand and ran through the bottom again. 

The pinket sighed and shoved him to the side, squishing Keiji against the wall as he stole a majority of the bed, as was the trend.

35.

"Let's get internet famous."

Keiji sighed.

"We're already internet famous. We go to powerhouse schools. You're the best setter in the country."

Atsumu grinned, "Ya finally admitted it. I don't mean like that- I mean like. Social media, ya'know? Instagram. Facebook."

"That's why we're known. Because news spreads. Over social media."

He huffed and elbowed Keiji in the side.

"You know damn well what I mean. I wanna make a splash, ya'know?" Atsumu made a big gesture with his hands, "Ya reckon a thirst trap would do the trick?"

"Aren't you planning to go pro after high school?"

"Yeah, and? It's not like one shirtless pic is gonna ruin my career. It'll boost it, if anything, I've got a killer bod! Good for PR and all that, ya'know?" 

Keiji sighed again, "Why can't there just be normal things on your bucket list," he muttered.

"This is plenty normal! What else would there be??"

"Have a summer fling. Lose your virginity. One night stand," Keiji droned from the top of his head, calling back all the manga tropes he had read in the past.

"Lose yer- what?! Keiji-kun what kinda shit have you been doin'??" Atsumu sputtered, leaping up.

"You haven't?"

Atsumu turned bright red, "WhAt?! That- stop avoidin' the question! Oi- stop smilin' all smug like that- fuck you! I'm gonna go steal a mug from yer kitchen!"

Keiji grinned to himself as Atsumu stomped away, the back of his neck red. He couldn't really say his first time was a mistake, per say, but there was definitely some regret attached to the experience. A rather cute girl from his class had been rather forward, and he needed to get his mind off his unrequited crush, so...

Not one of his proudest moments, but his second time hadn't been much better. 

When Atsumu returned, he seemed to have calmed down and in his hand was one of Keiji's cups, a black one with the words 'Have Be-Leaf in Your Abili-Teas' stamped on it. He had it filled to the brim with something, juice, maybe? and quickly set it on the desk.

"Alright, how d'ya make a thirst trap?" he asked, hands on his hips. Keiji shrugged and leaned over to roll the ball out from under his bed.

"I'm not having that on my search history," Keiji replied, rolling onto the floor and beginning a set of basic setting drills. 

"And that, m'dear Keiji, it what private browsing it for," Atsumu said, pulling out his phone. 

Lay back, 1, 2, 3, sit up, 1, 2, 3, squat, 1, 2, 3, stand up, 1, 2, 3,. Then reverse back down.

He glanced over when the other setter pulled of his shirt and dragged out Keiji's full-length mirror, positioning it across the small room from his bed. Keiji was pushed half-way through his third set to get off of the floor, and he heaved himself back onto the bed. 

Atsumu grabbed the blanket he had dragged off earlier and messily arranged it on the bed, throwing it over.

"Yer legs're too long!" he complained, "Ya can't be in the photo! Get on the chair or something!" 

Keiji rolled his eyes and basically folded himself in half, hugging his legs to his chest. Atsumu adjusted the fan to blow directly on him. 

He watched as Atsumu posed in front of the bed, holding the cup up so that his phone camera would also capture the mirror.

Keiji refreshed his Instagram page every few seconds until a new post finally popped up.

m_atsumu.7

[a downward angle towards a mug, filled with a liquid. Behind it, a long mirror reflects a boy with messy bright pink hair and a well built, looking relaxed as he takes a picture of his drink. In the background there is a western-style bed with blankets pooled on top of it]

 **m_atsumu.7** just woke up. wanna get some coffee later?

8 seconds ago

He snorted at the caption and reloaded it again to see likes already pouring in. Atsumu had amassed a large following over his high school career, nearly 2 thousand people composed of classmates, teammates, fans, and fangirls. 

Soon after the comments started popping up and Keji had to hide his chuckle behind his hand as he read through them.

 **sunarin.tarou** ur hair looks like shit. well more than it norm does

 **shimi_ki** looking good miya. not subtle, but good

 **m_osamu.11** is that kaashi kun's room lmao

"Why would you put 'coffee' in the photo if you asked someone out to coffee in the caption?" Keiji wondered aloud. Atsumu tossed a balled up piece of paper at him. 

"To keep the aesthetic, duh! Stop bein' such a wet blanket, the main point's the photo anyways! Didja see all the thirsty comments? I look awesome!"

Sure.

Well, at least that was another box checked off the list.

* * *

“Why didn’t you bring a futon?” Keiji frowned, looking through Atsumu’s bag.

“What’s the point if I can just steal yers?”

He levelled him with a stare, but Atsumu just turned around and began pushing Keiji towards the school.

“So where’re we goin’ this time?”  
  
Keiji elbowed Atsumu off of him, “Shinzen. They always host this one.”  
  
“Damn y’all got a schedule and everything. Inarizaki just plays with any strong schools that gives ‘em offers. We play practice matches with basically anyone, though.”

“It’s basically tradition at this point. The Fukurodani Academy Group was founded maybe 5, 6 years ago.”

“Will Tobio-kun be there? Wanna watch him set some more.” 

“Stop using us for your own self-gain. Karasuno will be there, yes,” Keiji replied. They arrived and Keiji left to talk to the Coach and Suzumeda. Once he got the okay for Atsumu to go (not like he would accept any other answer) he turned to see the bus arriving and the team piling onto the bus. 

Keiji stepped aside to let their manager board the bus and wait for the rest of the team show up. 

After a total of 13 minutes, 5 headcounts, and 3 attempts to talk over the loud bus, Keiji was finally allowed to sit down. 

He collapsed into the open seat next to Atsumu and sighed.

“Wake me up when we get there,” Keiji mumbled, followed immediately by passing out.

.

Keiji stirred to his phone buzzing against his thigh uncomfortably, jerking him awake. He jolted up and blinked for a moment, reorienting himself with his surroundings. Atsumu to his left, his bag at his feet, the city distant out the window. 

He stifled a yawn and pulled out his phone, squinting at the new notification. 

**m_atsumu.7** tagged you in a story

Interest peaked, he swiped open his phone with a raised eyebrow and Instagram opened up. He tapped Atsumu’s icon and was met with a selfie of himself, nearly drooling on Atsumu’s shoulder as his arms were crossed tightly on his chest.

He blindly reached out and elbowed Atsumu’s side at the caption: _awwww is the captain tired? pretty baby needs his rest :((_

“Why,” he groaned, “Delete it.”  
  
“Nah, ‘s hella cute, Keiji-kun! Look at you,” Atsumu cooed, shoving a hand through his hair and ruffling it. 

“Stop it,” he snapped tiredly, “I thought I told you to wake me up when we arrived.”

Damn bitch shrugged in response, “Not my fault ya wake up so easily.”

Keiji shifted around in his seat, but found that the bus was near impossible to fall asleep on once moving. He cursed out Atsumu in his head. Again.

Take a breath. Stay calm. 

36.

“Play some dare or dare with me,” Atsumu said.

“No. Have you never played it with your brother or anything?”

“Well, yeah, but like. It’s different, ya’know? ‘Cause you’re you! And you don’t give a shit!”

Keiji glared at him, “I do give a shit. Just because you’re shameless doesn’t mean everyone is.” 

“Sure,” he drawled, “Where was that damn ‘give a shit’ when ya shoved me into a fuckin’ lake??”

“It was a pond. Stop being so dramatic.”  
  
“That’s even worse! Nasty shit like mosquitos grow there ya’know!! Bet you were the reason I got like a million bug bites on my calf the other day.”

Keiji sighed.

“Great ya chose dare!” Atsumu cheered, (“Did I have any other option?”) “Dare ya to go ask Onaga if he brought any lube with him this time ‘round.”

He jerked away from Atsumu, “No! I’m still the captain!” he hissed furiously. 

“Yeah, and? I’m a Captain too,” Atsumu leaned forward, “Chicken?” 

Keiji scowled and shoved his face away. He turned and glanced down the aisle, flitting from each person. Just perfect, Onaga was sitting alone. 

“Loudly,” Atsumu whispered into his ear. He turned and quickly shoved his hand into the other’s hair, pulling. “Ow fuck! I’m into hair-pulling but not like that!” 

Says the fucking virgin.

“Shut up!” Keiji hissed, slowly turning a mortifying shade of red.

“Akaashi. Miya. Keep it down,” Coach grunted from the front. Keiji’s mouth snapped shut and pulled harder.

They struggled silently for a few more moments, Kaito watching with interest, until Keiji let go with a huff.

“Fucking finally,” Atsumu spat, massaging his head, “C’mon. Go already.” 

“Go fuck yourself,” Keiji growled, uncharacteristically riled up, before he shot out of his seat at the next red light. He darted back into the seat next to Onaga and smoothed out his face as quickly as possible.

Thank goodness for resting bitch faces. 

Onaga pulled out and earbud and turned to Keiji with a questioning look. 

“Onaga-kun,” he cleared his throat, willing his face to stay flat, “I was wondering if you brought any extra lube? I ran ou-”

“Akaashi-san!” Onaga spluttered.

“C-CAPTAIN!”

“AKAASHI!” Coach yelled from the front of the bus, “GET BACK IN YOUR SEAT.”

Keiji ducked his head while he returned to his seat, only to see Atsumu with tears leaking out of his eyes, dying in silent laughter.

“Ya- ya didn’t have to keep goin’!” he cackled, “Keiji-kun- yer- yer the best!” 

He buried his red face in his arms. 

_Fuck_ Atsumu.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk i was thinking about mha so guess what mha got slipped in. you CANNOT tell me that akaashi' does not have a body count of at least 2 and that atsumu is not all talk no action. 
> 
> liked it, hated it, let me know, thanks


	22. Drowsy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keiji loses sleep. What's new.

As soon as they got off the bus, Keiji began apologizing profusely to Onaga, much to Atsumu's chagrin.

"What's the point of the dare if yer just gonna explain it afterwards?" he complained.

"What, you're just going to have Ojirou-kun believe that you have a dick piercing?"

"Don't turn it on me! You were the one who told me to do it!"

Before Keiji could protest a third butted in, "What's this about a dick piercing?"

He sighed, "Nothing. There  _ are no dick piercings, _ " Keiji said the last part loudly for Ojirou's benefit.

Yamamoto pouted. Atsumu grinned, "How would  _ you  _ know, ey Keiji-kun? What if I got one while you weren't looking?"

"While I wasn't- don't phrase it that way," Keiji snapped. 

"Gay," Yamamoto stage whispered. He couldn't help but nod in agreement. "Anyways. Gotta go make sure Kenma didn't, like, jump out the window or something on the way here."

Atsumu made a humming noise when the spiker left with a wave to go find their setter.

"Hey how far did Nekoma get in the Interhigh?" Atsumu asked, slinging an arm around his shoulder.

"Mm... finals, they didn't make Nationals. Their defense really suffered when the third years graduated. Itachiyama wiped them and then Fukurodani won the second match."

"Who're you to talk about 'suffered?'" Atsumu scoffed, "There was like one person that wasn't a third year on yer lineup."

"Well it's a good thing there are only 2 third years this year, then," Keiji rolled his eyes, "Stop leaning on me. You should've slept on the bus if you were tired."

Atsumu responded by slumping over his back, wrapping both arms around his neck.

"I can't tell if you're hugging me, or trying to choke me," Keiji tugged on the hand in front of him.

"Yer choice. I'm nice like that."

"Nice isn't the word I'd use. Irritating, maybe."

.

"I think it's time to bring the gang back together," Atsumu announced, clapping.

"No."

"What? Why?"

"We're only here for two days. Besides, the coaches banned us, remember?" Keiji replied, reaching for the book Atsumu had snatched from him. "Lights out is also in 20." 

"Yeah, and? How many people do ya see in here, huh? That's right. Two. You 'n me. And where are they? Out. Where should we be? Out."

Keiji stole the book back and leaned away, "Your argument is outstanding. Very convincing," he deadpanned.

Atsumu huffed and shoved Keiji over to make room for himself, "Why the fuck does Shinzen have only one gym? It sucks."

"Stop bad mouthing our hosts-"

" _Your_ hosts. 'm just the fox that slipped through the walls."

Keiji reached over and grabbed a fistful of Atsumu's ratchet hair, "Oh look at that. I've caught a fox. Now would be an  _ awfully good time _ to defenestrate somebody."

The setter swatted him off, "What sorta fixation do ya have with my hair?? And stop usin' fancy words! I dunno what they mean!"

"Defenestrate means to throw somebody out the window," Keiji informed him.

Atsumu balked.

.

37.

“Let’s pull an all-nighter.”

Keiji squinted at him, “Pulling an all-nighter effects only me. You can do whatever you want and it won’t hinder your performance at all.”

“No it won’t! There’s no way yeh’ve never spent an all-nighter studying. Yer a nerd like that!” 

He glared at Atsumu, “You’re not really helping your case. You also forget we’re in a room with the team, they’re bound to notice if we’re still up. I can’t set a bad example.”

“We’ll make a team-bonding activity outta it!” Atsumu plucked his phone out of his hands and kicked up his book from the ground, catching it before it fell. 

“Absolutely not.”

Things rarely ever went Keiji's way (with a few rare exceptions involving Bokuto and volleyball) and this time was no exception.

His futon was at the end of the row, since he was captain and also to spare anyone from getting kicked in their sleep (ahem, Atsumu). This seemed to work in Atsumu's favor, who just flopped onto Keiji to keep him from falling asleep, lest he yield to suffocation. 

"Your plan sucks," Keiji wheezed, attempting to heave Fatsumu off of his chest.

"Nah, 'm brilliant," he protested, flicking Keiji in the forehead.

"Ojirou-kun won't sleep until it's like one in morning, your plan sucks," Keiji reiterated.

A deep sigh sounded from somewhere in the room, "It's not due to lack of trying, Captain. So I say this with as much respect as I can.  _ Please shut the fuck up. _ "

He pulled on Atsumu's hair until the other whined and relented, finally rolling off of him.

Honestly, it was mid-summer, the room was packed, and even at night it was nearly 30 degrees, and Atsumu thought the best way to keep him awake was to  _ lie on him. _

Every time Keiji was on the verge of sleep, Atsumu seemed to just sense it and pinch his side, which he would follow up by jolting and shoving him. 

It was a wonder Onaga hadn't woken up yet.

"This is the worst all-nighter I've ever pulled," Keiji whispered, "It's not even productive."

"Well I've learned plenty, like how fuckin' ticklish ya are-"

Keiji sat up and kicked him.

There weren't many people who knew he was ticklish, his parents, a few friends from grade school, and Konoha, who exploited the hell out of this fact.

It wasn't even in the laughing fun way, either, he was ticklish in the way that it bordered the fine line of pain, and his body just automatically tensed up and fell over, like those scared goats.

Konoha  _ also _ exploited the hell out of that. 

And now, it seemed, so will Atsumu.

"I'm going to set your hair on fire tomorrow," Keiji sighed, shutting his eyes. 

"That's great, Captain," Ojirou also sighed.

"Stop teamin' up on me. 'Sides, this is boring as hell, Keiji-kun! Do something interesting," Atsumu whined.

"Why don't I pull a rabbit out of a hat for you," he said sarcastically, "It's just staying up late. There's nothing 'interesting' about it, unless you count sleep deprivation."

Atsumu shuffled and sat up beside him as well, leaning over to rest his head on Keiji's shoulder, "But ya get to spend quality drowsy hours time with Atsumu-san, that's a real treat."

The setter let out a deep breath.

"Every second I spend with you makes me regret my entire being."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha a boring short chapter because i needed to get something out and i'm also in the middle of class i literally just took a quiz oh i hope i didn't fail i hope there'll be better chapter in the future sorry i posted a mha tdbk fic tho you should check it out it sucks liked it hated it let me know thanks


	23. City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keiji visits downtown with Atsumu.

Predictably, Keiji wasn’t in the best condition the next day, but his performance was just a step below his average. 

Atsumu, however… 

When their last game of the camp wrapped up (Fukurodani vs Ubagawa), Keiji set out with a sigh to look for the mop of pink hair. 

It hadn’t taken long, just walking around the corner, for him to find said pink hair. 

Atsumu was standing outside the gym with a volleyball, eyes closed as he set a ball against the wall. He seemed to be half asleep, moving only on muscle memory. 

Keiji stood for a moment, admiring his form and perfectly controlled sets before clearing his throat.

No reaction, not even a falter. Atsumu didn’t even register the sound. 

Of course Atsumu had no experience with lack of sleep, he got 9 hours a day like a healthy boy. 

Keiji stepped up and intercepted the ball, Atsumu’s eyes flew open when his hands floundered uselessly, hitting nothing but air. 

“Oh, Keiji-kun,” he yawned, “Zoned out. What time is it?”

“We just finished the last game, we’re going to get onto the bus,” Keiji said. Atsumu nodded once and rolled out his shoulders, cracking his neck both ways before following him sleepily. Kind of like a lost puppy, if the puppy looked like he was going to keel over at any moment. 

They stopped by the gym to return to the ball before trying to navigate their way to the parking lot, Atsumu nearly walking into the bus before finding the steps.

Coach eyed him, “What’s up with Miya?”

“Stayed up too late. Doesn’t know his limits.”

He nodded once before climbing onto the bus and seating himself in the driver’s seat, “I’ll leave you to make sure everyone gets on.” 

Keiji quickly ran a headcount, coming up with 9. 11, including himself and Atsumu. Who was missing… Kaito. 

“Anahori-kun,” he called, the younger’s head snapping up immediately, “Where’s Kaito-kun?”

“Ryota?” Anahori’s brow furrowed, “Last time I saw him he was still in the room, packing up his stuff.”

“I saw him helping some of the Shinzen guys packing up the gym,” someone else called.

Keiji stepped back off and glanced around. A body ran into the side and he stumbled backwards, wheezing. 

“Oh, sorry Akaashi-san!”

There was Kaito. 

“Sorry for making everybody late,” he dipped into a slight bow, “I got lost.” 

Keiji tipped his head to the side, “Get on the bus. That’s everyone, Coach.” 

“Don’t be too loud and don’t cause any distractions,” Coach said as soon as Keiji took his seat, sending him a slight glare through the mirror, “Alright, Akaashi?”

Keiji sucked in a deep breath and reminded himself that stabbing the person next to him would be very detrimental to both his and Atsumu's health.

He exhaled when the bus began to move and Atsumu shifted, burrowing his head onto Keiji's shoulder like it was the most comfortable pillow in the world. Atsumu scratched his neck before crossing his arms, already back asleep. 

Keiji slumped in his seat and closed his eyes.

.

"Keiji-kun! Can ya tell yer parents that you'll be staying out late t'night??" Atsumu asked, swatting Keiji with his towel. 

"Stop hitting me. Why?" Keiji asked, phone already pulled out.

38.

"I wanna explore Tokyo at night! 'City that never sleeps,' right?!"

Keiji snorted, "That's New York City."

"City of Angels, then!"

He hummed, "Los Angeles."

"City of Sin?"

"Las Vegas. Do you know any cities that  _ aren't _ American?"

"City of fuckin' Lights!"

"Paris."

"Fuck! City of Love!"

"Still Paris," Keiji sighed, slipping away his phone after receiving the OK. "Just call it Tokyo."

Atsumu pouted, "Why do all those lame-ass Europeans get cool names??"

"If you wanted one you could've just asked, Bratsumu. Besides, most of those were American, not European."

"I barely passed my Geography exam, Keiji-kun, stop quizzin' me."

"Well it seems we're long overdue for another study session," Keiji remarked drily, swinging his bag over his shoulder. Atsumu did the same and began ushering him out of the locker rooms. 

They dropped by Atsumu's place to drop their stuff off before heading out again.

"How many hours does your aunt spend in the salon?" Keiji wondered aloud.

"Not as many as you think," Atsumu huffed, "Her week's split, I think. Goin' 'tween two jobs, one at the salon, another at a bar somewhere. Speakin' of, wanna drink? Obaa-san works at a bar!"

"You said. We're both minors, remember?" he pointed out, taking the steps two at a time to keep up with Atsumu's eager pace.

"Yer point? Have ya never drank before?"

"You  _ have? _ "

Atsumu scoffed, "Who d'ya think I am? 'm from the country! Damn city boys..."

"The way you describe your life, I'm inclined to believe you were raised wild."

Atsumu winked at him as an answer and began humming. Keiji followed a step behind him for 3 blocks before he realized: "You have no clue where you're going, do you?"

"Shaddap! I'm just tryna find where the brightest lights are!" the setter snapped defensively. 

Keiji rolled his eyes, "I think the word you're looking for is 'downtown.' We've been going in the wrong direction."

"See that's what yer here for! I'm Dora the fuckin' Explora and yer m'trusty map!"

"Who does that make Swiper? Osamu?"

"Yeah. That fucker's always tryna steal my shit," he nearly growled. Keiji highly doubted it was Atsumu's 'shit' to begin with.

As they neared downtown, there was an obvious shift in the atmosphere. Music floated out of open shops, plazas, parks, the smell of food was  _ everywhere, _ and people were flowing every which way. 

The sun wasn't even down yet.

Atsumu dragged Keiji around stands and trucks lining the streets to try out samples and buy food if he deemed it good enough. 

Dim blues slowly shifted to oranges, pinks, purples, until it reached an inky black. 

The buildings began lighting up, lamps flicking on in offices and homes, advertisements along stretches of blocks illuminating the streets, neon signs hanging off of hotels and bars glowing bright.

Crowds became thicker as people got off work, looking to relax, or students enjoying the last of their vacation.

Atsumu pointed excitedly towards a group of people gathered in the center of a plaza when they escaped the crowded streets.

Keiji smiled at the sight, just a few weeks ago they were here, square dancing with the grandmas. He turned to his right and, oh look, there was that cat cafe, closed for the night but cats still wandered around the front window. Behind him, Skytree blinked, their footsteps on the top deck probably already faded, with Tokyo Tower across it, traces of the two long gone. 

"K-Keiji-kun didja fuckin'  _ see  _ that kid??" Atsumu howled, nearly doubled over in laughter as he attempted to make his way down the sidewalk while avoiding passerbys, "Prob'ly thought he looked so fucking cool! Then- then he just-" Atsumu dissolved into another round of laughter.

Keiji chuckled and pulled Atsumu aside when somebody sprinted by them.

"Gah, hoped somebody recorded that. It'll be in my memories forever," he wiped a tear of mirth away from his eyes.

" _ 'We Don't Need the Memories,' _ " Keiji quoted.

_ "'When Victory is Already Ours,' _ " Atsumu continued. He grinned and turned towards Keiji properly, "Used to  _ live _ by that, ya'know? But now I'm thinkin', memories aren't so bad, are they?"

No, they really weren't.

.

After deciding that getting home was too much work, Keiji and Atsumu crashed into the apartment giggling.

"Can I borrow some clothes?"

"Yup. just did laundry yesterday, whatever's dumped in the suitcase is clean," Atsumu slid down the hall into the bathroom. Keiji rifled through his duffel to pull out his wet dowel, hanging it out to dry. 

He felt a bit light-headed, a measly hour over the last 40 was starting to take its toll on his body, along with 3 matches, an afternoon of practice, and leftover giddy feelings from running around with Atsumu. 

Keiji pulled out a tank top with Inarizaki's motto written across the back on along and just decided to forego bottoms. He wandered down the hallway, pushing open the door. 

Atsumu handed him a new toothbrush, still in the package, and he tore it open, haphazardly squirting a line of toothpaste on and dunking it into water before stepping back out. That tiny bathroom was most definitely too small for both of them.

After finishing up his nightly routine and watching Atsumu kick out the rolled futon, Keiji slouched over and promptly collapsed, vaguely registering Atsumu's arm in the way before conking out entirely. 

.

He swatted at his phone when it dinged, sending it sliding across the floor.

Keiji rolled over and patted around, surprised to find that Atsumu was gone, probably in the bathroom or something. 

His phone dinged again. 

He let out a quiet groan and curled up. 

“‘Tsumu can you uh… uh. Phone. My phone, please,” Keiji managed. Atsumu ran out from… somewhere and retreated his phone dropping it onto his shoulders, “Ow.” 

He blinked at the screen, vision blurry, for a moment before it cleared. He dropped his head back onto the ground and groaned.

“Stop taking photos of me.”

“Ya haven’t even seen it! Promise ya don’t look like shit!” Atsumu exclaimed, pulling his phone from Keiji’s fingers. 

“I highly doubt you can keep that promise.”

Keiji lifted his head nevertheless and watch Atsumu swipe open the notification. 

**_m_atsumu.7_ ** _ tagged you in a story. _

It was a photo of Keiji sprawled across the futon, face turned away from the camera but hair unruly. He was lying on his stomach, and Inarizaki’s motto was scrawled across the back. He scowled. 

“Take it down.”

“Nah, ‘s cute! ‘Sides Bokkun needs to see yer not, like, dying, right? I’m keepin’ him happy,” Atsumu said, sitting down next to him.

“Not cute,” Keiji groused, rubbing his eyes. “Time?”

“Nearly 8.’

“Fuck,” he swore. Keiji scrambled up from the ground, “Exact time? Can I borrow more clothes?”

“7:43. Yeah, go crazy.”   


17 minutes until practice started. Fuck.

He hurriedly brushed his teeth in the bathroom, “Fuck you Atsumu!” he called around the brush in his mouth. Why the hell didn’t he wake him up??   
  
“Ya looked cute!”   
  
“Fuck you!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sunarin's not the only one that takes photos of everything. The scene on the end is messy and tacked on because I needed this chapter to be longer so peep Atsumu constantly taking photos of Akaashi. I'm posting this during pe bc who actually participated in pe not me. Rn I'm either sick or my allergies are really acting up. 
> 
> Liked it, hated it, let me know, thanks :)


	24. Anticipation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keiji stands around while Atsumu freaks out over foxes.

39.

"Right, 'Samu just threatened to castrate me if I don't bring him some shit," Atsumu announced, waving his phone around, "We're gonna find a 100 yen store and buy whatever shit's inside for him."

Keiji pushed himself further into the stretch to feel the slight burn in his thighs, "Why didn't Osamu-kun just buy something himself when he was here?"

Atsumu shrugged, "Who knows? All of 'Samu's life decisions were and are shit."

He picked himself up and headed towards the supply closet, being the last ones in the gym, to get a mop. He propped the door open with a wedge and pushed past the pinnies, basketballs, cones, ah- there, mops. 

Keiji heard Atsumu shuffle in after him, "Don't move the doo-"

His sentence was cut short by the door slamming shut. Keiji turned to Atsumu in disbelief. 

"Oh, whoops. I can prop it back up aga-" Atsumu paused, a hand pressed to the metal surface, "It's locked ain't it."

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

Last time he got stuck in this closet, Konoha had thought it was a  _ brilliant _ idea to lock Keiji and Bokuto in. Except Konoha was an  _ idiot, _ because Bokuto wasn't even  _ in _ the closet, so Konoha ended up pushing Keiji in and slamming the door shut. 

Alone. 

And of course, the door only unlocked/locked on the outside, and Keiji was the only one, bar Onaga, on the team that could be trusted with the key. 

Which then prompted Konoha to start yelling, which drew Bokuto to  _ actually _ show up, and his two stupid senpai tried to pry open the metal door while Keiji could do nothing but stand and sigh at the door. 

They ended up calling Coach to come back to school to help them. 

Except this time, Keiji wasn't willing to risk his dwindling captain pride and/or reputation, so calling Coach was out of the question.

"Who was the last to leave the gym?" he demanded immediately. 

"Ah... er, Ojirou-kun??"

Not a very convincing answer. It would have to do.

"Ojirou-kun lives the furthest from school," Keiji muttered to himself, "If he left 10 minutes ago, then... fuck."

"Why don'tcha just call Coach? He has to have a key, right?"

"I am  _ not _ calling Coach."

Atsumu huffed and walked over to Keiji, sliding down and planting himself on the floor.

"Well ya up for some 7 minute in heaven, then?"

Keiji snapped as a thought struck him, "The basketball team. They'll be here within the next 20 minutes and they'll need to get balls."

The setter on the ground let out a whine, "20 minutes?? I'll like- starve in that time!" 

"Well whose fault is it that we're stuck in here?"

"Not mine! Why didn'tcha wedge the door properly??"

"Why did you touch the door??"

Atsumu snarled, "You fuckin-"

Light spilled into the room as the door swung open, Atsumu half-way off the ground. 

"Hey Akaashi-kun," the captain of the basketball team, Kasamatsu, greeted

"Hey Kasamatsu-kun," Keiji nodded, quickly straightening and pulling Atsumu with him, "We'll be going now. I hope your practice goes well."

He nodded and stepped aside as the setters stumbled out. Well, one stumbling, the other shoving. 

"See you, Akaashi-kun. Oh yeah, are we still meeting up next Saturday?"

"Yes. Text the others, would you? I think I left the chat."

Kasamatsu raised a hand to bid them farewell before starting to roll out a cart of basketballs.

"Who's that? Why didn'tcha introduce me?" Atsumu asked eagerly. 

"Fukurodani's basketball captain, and I decided to spare him. He already has one pain-in-the-ass to deal with.

Atsumu feigned offense, but curiosity overpowered it, "What's goin' on on Saturday?"

"Study session. A few third years in my class and I get together to review material every week."

"Sick. Can I co-" Atsumu abruptly cut off and frowned. Well, Keiji was under the assumption that Atsumu would tag along anyways, why would he ask-

Oh. Right. 

He kept his gaze concentrated on his shoes, ignoring the way a wave of disappointment washed over him. 

Atsumu quickly grinned, "So, where's the closest 100 yen store?"

.

Keiji grinned, the expression a hair shy from fond as Atsumu fawned over a pair of plastic foxes he found somewhere on the shelves. 

"Look at 'em, Keiji-kun! I  _ have _ buy it for 'Samu. WOAH look at that one!" he pointed towards another pair, "It looks different! I should get that one too!" 

"It looks different because it's deformed," Keiji snorted, pointing to the figurine in question, "The top of his head is squished slightly, it makes the sides of the head look longer."

"I'm still getting it," he announced, "Kinda looks like Sunarin, if ya think about it. Hey if this one's Sunarin then that one's 'Samu, he looks like a fuckin' idiot."

"That one looks identical to the ones you're holding right now."

"Nah, this one's me, see? Fuckin' genius right here," Atsumu thrust a hand towards his face, "What else should I get?"

Keiji glanced around the shop, "I doubt your teammates would like cutlery or dishes."

"Hm... well I've been meanin' to meet up with Kita-san for a while. If I can find some fox plates 'n shit he'd prob'ly find it funny. He'd love it," Atsumu grinned, handing off his finds to Keiji before darting away. 

He wandered around the store while the other hopped from aisle to aisle in pursuit of his fox-print plates. Keiji picked up a few onigiri. Umeboshi? Yeah. Cucumber... Atsumu would like spicy. Chicken karaage, yes. Tuna? Sure.

"Oi, where'd ya go?" Atsumu's head peeked around the corner, followed by the rest of his body, "You wouldn't  _ believe _ it Keiji-kun, I found a set! Plus it's like, not colored, right? So it's just foxes in black and white and all of 'em totally look like Kita-san that way!" 

Keiji examined the dinnerware, slightly impressed at the neat print and the not-totally-obvious cheap material. The set seemed to be marked separately in pairs, so Atsumu grabbed two plates, two smaller plates, two bowls, and two Chinese spoons, as well as two pairs of random chopsticks to go with it. 

He decided to be nice just this once and paid for everything while Atsumu ogled the various onigiri molds, especially the vaguely animal shaped ones.

"Atsumu," Keiji called sharply before the other could get lost. Atsumu snapped to attention and he looked  _ delighted. _

"Keiji-kun! Ya shouldn't have!"

"It's the 100 yen store, it didn't cost that much," he replied, pulling a random onigiri out of the bag and tossing it to Atsmu. 

"Thank ya, Keiji-kun," Atsumu beamed, bumping their shoulders together.

He looked away, suppressing the slight grin as Atsumu eagerly tore into it. 

"When's your train tomorrow?"

"2, so I should be back home in time for dinner."

Keiji hummed, "Do you want me to take you to the station?"

"Since yer offerin' and all," Atsumu said. He probably didn't even know where the train station was, much less how to get there. 

Which one did he take to get here again?

The setter went quiet and Keiji glanced over in slight concern. He ran a hand through his pink hair, staring at a point ahead of them, eyes unfocused, "Should prob'ly make the last day special, huh?"

"Special how?"

Atsumu chuckled- nervously?

"Well, that's a surprise, ya'see."

.

Atsumu texted him early the next morning. 

Bratsumu

_ Cant make morning practice today need to pack stuff _

_ Meet me at that one park w the playgroun at lunch k _

Sent 7:29

Keiji typed out a confirmation and slipped his phone away. In the back of his mind, he wondered what sort of grand finale Atsumu had planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahaha fuck this chapter is so short. Sorry! Well, we're nearing the closing of this story, and I have a vague idea of how it's going to go- just gotta write it. Hey US pals, how're you feeling about inauguration? 
> 
> Also don't you hate it when you're like, super hyped for something but then you realize guess what it's not going to happen? Basically akaashi and atsumu in this chapter, bc guess what atsumu's leaving soon yayyyyyyy. Pretty much how all plans before quarantine flopped.
> 
> Liked it, hated it, let me know, thanks :)


	25. High

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A moment of shock, a moment of confusion, a moment of clarity, a moment of bliss.

Keiji felt- melancholy? No, bittersweet. Conflicted.

To put it frankly, practice without Atsumu just wasn't the same. It was like a sick sense of the future, a bit quieter, less lively, and 100% insult free. The changed atmosphere threw everybody off, and it showed. 

Kaito tugged on Keiji's sleeve during a water break, "Akaashi-san, has Atsumu-san left early?" 

"No, but he's leaving tonight. He'll still be at our afternoon practice," he replied.

Like a string cut, the team unconsciously relaxed at his words. Keiji wondered if he could also be read so easily. He missed Atsumu- 's presence. His presence. 

"Alright, pinch servers on the right, we're going rotating receives," he called, placing his bottle back on the ground and throwing aside his towel.

.

Keiji may have rushed clean up a bit to get to the park quicker, but no one could tell. Probably.

He checked his phone again. No new messages. 

"That park with the playground" was kind of vague, but somehow, Keiji could tell exactly where Atsumu was indicating.

Kind of ironic, how day 1 had found Keiji confused in a sports store as he was dragged out towards a park, and now day 40 had him seeking out Atsumu- of his own free will, too. 

Once a dot of blurry pink appeared in the distance, Keiji quickened his step, raising a hand in greeting so as to no seem so eager. 

Atsumu was perched atop a set of monkey bars, legs swinging casually while his hands alternated between clenching the metal bar and tapping against it.

"Why are you nervous?" Keiji asked, reaching for the side. Atsumu pushed his hand off and Keiji looked towards him with a confused look. 

"'m not nervous!" he very nearly shouted, suddenly flushing. A fever, maybe? He was sweating, though that might've just been from the heat. 

"Alright," Keiji replied cautiously, reaching out a hand nonetheless to press against his neck. 

"Yer hands are cold," Atsumu mumbled, tone suddenly soft, staring down at Keiji.

"I've been told. What are we doing today?"

Atsumu seemed to snap out of his trance, grabbing Keiji by the wrist and lifting his hand. Keiji paused, unsure, as the other gave no signs of letting go. 

Definitely nervous. What for? Did he do something wrong? Or maybe it was because Atsumu was leaving soon. Or maybe- 

Atsumu let go and nudged him back gently, a contrast to how he would normally just shove Keiji aside when he wanted to pass. Something was definitely wrong.

He felt on edge, waiting for the blow to strike, for the other foot to fall, anticipating. 

Keiji watched, bemused, as Atsumu didn't jump down, instead spinning around and hooking his legs under the bar on the other side. His back bent backwards and Keiji found himself looking down at Atsumu's face, for once. 

He lifted an eyebrow at the sudden change in position.

40.

"Spider-Man kiss me."

Huh.

Keiji stiffened. His world seemed to have screeched to a halt while mind raced. His instinctual reaction was to stumble back, followed by a slight blush rising to his cheeks. 

Atsumu stared at him, eyes earnest and undeterred as he held his form. Keiji registered an underlying panic in his features. 

"I- er, excuse me?" he stuttered. 

"Spider-Man. Kiss."

Alright. Nothing changed. 

A. just do it. B. it's a joke, he's just... testing Keiji. C. it's for the list. D. laugh it off later. 

Yep. All of those options sucked. 

His heart thudded, like a clock ticking down to the final seconds, as he grasped for something to say, anything- to fill the silence that had Atsumu... dreading.

"Erm... w-what brought this on?" Keiji frantically racked his mind as a fist squeezed painfully tight around his stomach.  _ Stall. Stall. Stall. _

"What the fuck you think?" Atsumu huffed, "I just asked you to fucking kiss me. Connect the dots here, Keiji." 

His face was slowly turning red from both the blood rushing to his face and... embarrassment. 

Keiji slowly blushed deeper at the thought. Connect the dots? Well, last time someone asked Keiji to kiss them it was the intention of sleeping with him, and that hadn't gone too well, but in most scenarios it was-

"Is this a confession?"

Atsumu's mouth twisted into a pained expression, "Don't make me say it. Just yes or no. C'mon." 

The final nail in the coffin. 

A lot of things made sense in the sudden second of clarity, the increasingly frequent touches, the fading feelings for his upperclassmen, the  _ reciprocation  _ of the touch, the flirting, the sharing, the-

Keiji swept away all his thoughts and cupped the back of that stupid pink hair, tilting his head to the side and kissing him. 

A moment of shock, a moment of confusion, a moment of clarity, a moment of bliss.

It was by no means an amazing first kiss, the angle was awkward, their noses bumped into chins, Keiji's hand was twisted almost painfully in Atsumu's hair, but it was a pretty damn good one. 

"Ya reckon this counted as a summer fling?" Atsumu breathed once they broke apart, face still painfully pink. 

"Just a fling?"

"Maybe somethin' more," he agreed. "Fuck this is killing my back," he immediately swore, twisting around and landing on his feet in a squat. 

"Ruined the moment."

Atsumu rolled his head around to reorient the blood and pulled Keiji in for another kiss. 

Shorter, sweeter, a quick press of the lips.

"Okay, maybe you didn't," Keiji amended, unable to keep a small smile off his face. Giddy feelings rose in his chest, and an inexplicable lightness took ahold of his head. "We should have a talk about this."

"We should," Atsumu agreed again, wrapping his arms around Keiji's middle. They never really hugged, Keiji realized, always just an arm around the shoulders, a leg thrown across their body. "Not now."

"Okay. Later."

.

It took the better part of 4 hours for the high of the confession to die off, and even then Keiji still felt like a pile of mush. 

Laying in his bedroom, head thrown in Atsumu's lap, he was quite content to just fall asleep and die. 

"Why'd you confess?"

"Not much of a confession, really. I figured now was a good a time as any, if ya said yes then yay! If ya rejected me then I've only got a day left, anyways."

Keiji frowned, "Well when you put it that way, we've only got half a day left until you leave."

"Yeah, but now I know that ya won't cut off all ties. Plus ya promised you'd get to hell day, gotta play 'gainst each other one last time."

He hummed and closed his eyes, turning to bury his head against Atsumu's stomach. It was kind of odd how used to these gestures Keiji already was, except now they had a deeper level of meaning. On some level, they had already developed a relationship without realizing it (Well on Keiji's side, at least. Atsumu, on the other hand? Probably knew every damn thing he was doing.)

When he voiced the thought, Atsumu let out a loud bark of laughter. His relaxed grin turned sharp (foxlike...)

"Yeah, but now I get ta do this," he seized the back of Keiji's neck and tugged him up, meeting in the middle in a bruising kiss. 

He blushed immediately at the unabashed affection.

Atsumu turned smug at the instantaneous reactions, "Look so cute when ya blush," he cooed.

An absolute lie, when Keiji was truly flustered, he blushed with his whole body, cheeks, neck, chest. 

He smiled anyways, "I could say the same for you." Just to see the way Atsumu immediately faltered and a dusting of pink rushed to coat his cheeks.

"Shut up," he grumbled.

"Why didn't you say something sooner? I really wish we had more time..."

"Well why didn't  _ you! _ " Atsumu exclaimed, stabbing a finger against his shoulder, "'ts yer fault too ya'know!"

"Maybe because I didn't realize until 3 seconds after you demanded I kiss you?" he suggested. It was kind of odd yet it also made sense. 

Atsumu was childish, irritating, and brash, obvious reasons why it wouldn't be clear for Keiji that he was... interested?

Though just a layer beneath all that, there was determination, a shit load of hard work, and a sense of adventure Keiji didn't know what he'd do without. 

Atsumu was all of those things, good and bad, mixed into one hell of a volleyball player.

Keiji couldn't pretend he hadn't taken notice of the broad shoulders, handsome face, and strong calves at least a few times.

"How the fuck didja manage that? I'm like the best person you know?!"

And egotistical. Very egotistical. 

.

Atsumu's last practice was a bit of an ordeal, with Coach basically letting a team full of teenagers having free reign over the gym. As per Atsumu's insistence, they played matches the entire evening, him on one team, Keiji on the other. 

As always, Atsumu came out on top, cheering and high-fiving all of Keiji's underclassmen as they hooted and hollered. 

They left the gym in high spirits, the energy carrying over into the locker room as they showered, shouting to each other above the sound of the running water. 

Keiji had just pulled on his boxers when he found himself suddenly pulled away from his locker and down onto a bench, Atsumu's legs straddling his sides. 

He glanced up to meet a phone camera, Atsumu running a hand through his hair and smiling wildly. 

He gave his own quirk of the lips at the expression just as the camera clicked.

Alright, he had to move now before he died of a heatstroke. Keiji pushed himself up using Atsumu's thighs and pulled on his shirt.

Onaga glanced towards him, confusion written all over his face.

.

As a sort of final goodbye, the entire team trailed after Atsumu as he made his way to the station, having brought his suitcase to practice. 

They stood a few paces away as Keiji and Atsumu purchased a ticket.

“Call me when you get back?” 

He grinned, “Who d’ya take me for? Maybe I should just transfer to Fukurodani. God knows they need a better setter.”

Keiji rolled his eyes, “Their setter is plenty fine, thank you.” 

The two returned to the group. The team crowded Atsumu, the pinch servers nearly crying, Anahori already wiping tears, their libero jumping, even Onaga had a little displeased frown.

He cleared his throat quietly, drawing their attention, “We’re going to make it to day 3, and we’ll face off against Atsumu one last time. Fukurodani will not fall to Inarizaki.” 

Kaito and Ojirou broke out into cheers, rousing the rest of the team until their tears had vanished and bystanders were glaring. 

“So inspirational,” Atsumu whispered, “Good luck beating _ us. _ ”

“Won’t need it,” he replied. 

At the turnstile, Atsumu turned one last time and waved. 

“All of y’all better give yer best, ya hear??” he called. Keiji smiled before pressing a quick kiss to his lips. 

“See you next year.”

“Hopefully before that,” Atsumu winked, feeding his ticket into the machine. It sputtered back out as it glowed green, “See ya.”

* * *

Day 41, 7:45 AM 

Keiji paused at the intersection, glancing down the street for a head of pink hair that stood a foot above all the others. He shook his head and continued on, alone. 

He unlocked the door, the gym deafeningly quiet. His steps echoed through the space as he slowly pushed open the closet door, shoving the wedge in place. 

Near silence. 

.

Atsumu checked his phone, 7:40 AM. Ten minutes late. He sucked in a deep breath, shook out his hands and grinned. 

He strode forwards quickly and kicked open the door as he jumped in. 

“Captain!”

“Atsumu-san!”

“OI! LISTEN UP!” he roared, “I’m here, I’m queer, now get yer fuckin’ asses in gear ‘cause we’re crushin’ Karasuno and makin’ it to day 3, ya hear??” 

“Nice speech, now say that without looking like a fuckin’ idiot,” Osamu smacked him upside the head. Atsumu scowled and stuck his tongue out at him, “The hell’d you say ‘bout bein’ queer?”   
  
Atsumu’s grin returned full force, “I’m real fuckin’ gay, that’s what it means.”

“About fucking time,” Sunarin scoffed, “Get your ass on the court, you’re late and you’ve missed 2 months of practice,  _ Captain. _ ”

“Yeah, ‘m the captain stop fuckin’ orderin’ me around,” Atsumu snarled, “Yuuto-kun! Heisuke-kun! C’mere I got this  _ killer _ new serve.” 

“Ten bucks says he flops.” 

“‘M not bettin’ on something that’s already guaranteed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! This is the end! Thank you to all the people who decided to stick through 50k+ words of friendship + adventures! For some reason, my confession/getting together scenes always happen at 2 AM and in the very last chapter of my stories, and therefore go through minimal editing because I get excited during them. 
> 
> The chap title is kind of referring to the confession being the high, and the day after, Akaashi kind of crashes from it, while Atsumu is back with his team and quite happy. 
> 
> Liked it, hated it, let me know, thanks!!


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